Stolen Magic
by what are you even saying
Summary: PostGoF. Voldemort surprises Harry at Privet Drive, but gets more than he bargained for. Harry winds up with Fleur's veela abilities and a bit more power. HarryHarem
1. Voldemort's Mistake

**Stolen Magic**

A/N: Welcome to my second piece of fanfiction! First off, let me warn any readers on fanfiction(dot)net that this story will be FILLED with smut/lemons/whatever other words there are for explicit sex, which can't be included on this site. If you want to read the good stuff, I'd recommend getting onto ficwad(dot)com, and reading the story there. The first chapter is no different, the lemons don't come yet, sorry. My account is the same on ficwad as it is on fanfiction(dot)net, but without the spaces. As for the story itself, it's post GoF, but I'm using characters and ideas from OotP, it just won't be the same story. That being said, I hope you enjoy it! The next update will come as soon as I can make it.

Thanks to my betas for this chapter, Patrick and Ben.

Disclaimer: This is the only disclaimer I'll be writing for this story. It applies to every chapter. I claim no ownership of Harry Potter. I am not making any money off of this…I'm just having fun mixing JKR's ideas with my own.

**Chapter 1: Voldemort's Mistake**

Due to an unexpected heat wave, Privet Drive appeared to be, to a casual observer, nearly empty of its inhabitants. Most, like the Dursleys of Number 4, stayed inside, where they could rely on a steady supply of shade, if nothing else. However, the fourth person living at Number 4, a thin, bespectacled boy named Harry Potter could be seen jogging around the neighborhood, shirtless, every day. At first, all this caused was a rather severe sunburn, but his aunt, Petunia Dursley, put a stop to that. She coldly informed him that the neighbors would be talking about his burn, and would perhaps think that it was a sign that he wasn't being properly cared for. After that, Harry was provided with sun cream, though his relatives took every available opportunity to complain about the 'increased expense.' Harry didn't mind their complaining; he was used to it. He had always hated appearing pale and sickly, and now he no longer did. Enduring a few complaints was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

Every day, Harry followed the same routine. He jogged to the park immediately after breakfast, relaxed in the shade of a few trees, often falling asleep, and then jogged back in time for lunch. He did the same between lunch and dinner. All in all, it was a good schedule for everyone. Harry still had enough time to do a few chores after dinner, and he was always at home to cook the meals. Therefore, the Dursleys had no cause to complain (though it didn't stop them). Harry, who was used to manual labor, now had free time in which he wasn't being bothered by anyone. The fact that his free time included both exercise and time to think was merely an added bonus.

However, time to think wasn't always a good thing. Harry couldn't think of the few good things in his life—Ron, Hermione, the rest of the Weasleys, Sirius, and, of course, Hogwarts—without remembering the blank look on Cedric Diggory's face when he was murdered. Logically, Harry knew that Cedric's death wasn't his fault, but he also knew he'd always have a little voice in the back of his mind that said otherwise. Remembering Cedric fueled his nightmares, and it also forced him to remember the one thing that truly haunted his unconscious, Lord Voldemort. The one who had murdered his parents, the one who had ordered Wormtail to kill Cedric, and the one who seemed to be obsessed with killing Harry.

The _Daily Prophet_ had reached a new low. Harry had initially been tempted to cancel his subscription, but he wisely decided that it was best to know what the enemy was saying about him. Unfortunately, the _Prophet_ really was as much his enemy as Voldemort, though they hadn't tried to kill him…yet. Ever since their article on the first, they had been on a constant smear campaign against both Harry and Dumbledore, which was no doubt inspired by the current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Fudge had refused to believe in Voldemort's return, and was now attempting to discredit those who did. Dumbledore had been removed as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, but Lucius Malfoy had thus far been unsuccessful in forcing Dumbledore out of his headmaster position at Hogwarts, though he showed no sign of giving up. Harry was initially surprised that the public would so readily believe Fudge over someone as well respected as Albus Dumbledore, but he supposed that they didn't want to believe in Voldemort's return either.

Harry was much less surprised, though much angrier, about the general consensus concerning him. It could all be summed up by the same article that had started it all, the cover story of the July 1 edition:

_**Boy Who Lived Speaks Out:**_

_**Voldemort's Return, or Delusions of a Lonely Child?**_

_As many readers may remember, the third task of the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts ended in the most horrible way imaginable. After recovering the unconscious bodies of the champions from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour, respectively, the teachers of Hogwarts thought they had seen the worst. Unfortunately, they were proven wrong some time later when Harry Potter's feet hit the ground outside of the maze as he held two things. The first, of course, was the Triwizard Cup, which had been turned into a Portkey, but the second was a body, the body of Cedric Diggory. He was dead._

_Minister Fudge conducted a personal investigation of the matter in which he discovered that Barty Crouch Jr. had somehow escaped from Azkaban and come to Hogwarts under the guise of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody. He placed the Imperius Curse on Mr. Krum, who was forced to attack Ms. Delacour during the task. Mr. Krum then allegedly assaulted the late Mr. Diggory with the Cruciatus Curse, only to be stunned by the fourth champion, Harry Potter. Minister Fudge made the obvious connection: it was Crouch who put the Boy Who Lived's name in the Goblet of Fire. Fudge, concerned with the safety of the students at Hogwarts, immediately brought a Dementor in to administer the Kiss to Crouch._

_However, young Harry Potter refused to leave things as they were. He came out with the outlandish claim that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned from the dead during the third task, and had had Cedric Diggory killed. The idea that he was insulting the memory of his fellow champion did not seem to register. However, based on earlier facts reported by Rita Skeeter, Harry Potter may not be entirely in control of himself. Raised without parents, he has always had a hard life, a life made that much more difficult when his long-time girlfriend, Hermione Granger, abandoned him for Viktor Krum. It's unclear as to whether or not Krum was under the Imperius Curse at that time. Additionally, an anonymous Healer at St. Mungo's has already reported the possibility of prolonged mental damage from exposure to the Killing Curse. Continued on page 2, Voldemort's Demise, page 3, Albus Dumbledore's Mistakes, page 4, Harry Potter's Troubled Past, page 5._

The letters from both Hermione and Ron had begun to come in immediately after the article. Harry was grateful that both had been told by Dumbledore not to include anything important in their letters, because Harry really didn't feel like going into anything important with them. He found himself comforting both Hermione and Ron, though the majority of the article (as well as those that followed) focused on him. He supposed that Ron's jealousy was part of the problem, but didn't let it concern him.

Voldemort hadn't yet been acknowledged, and he was taking advantage of that. There hadn't been any attacks, except for one, which the ministry had foolishly blamed on Sirius. Voldemort had broken into Azkaban and freed roughly half of the prisoners, including some who hadn't served him in the past. Both the Ministry and the _Prophet_ reported that Sirius was attempting to rally supporters in the hopes of becoming the next Dark Lord. Harry, upon reading that particular article, had felt a curious mixture of fear and anger.

The morning of July ninth found Harry at his usual routine. He had been unable to sleep at the park, but that wasn't surprising, given what was on his mind. While none of the articles that followed the first attacked him directly, he was mentioned somewhere in every article, usually as the butt of a joke. The reporters had apparently decided against sympathizing with him, though the first article had clearly given them an opening to do so. Fighting to stay calm, Harry cut across the street and slowed to a walk in front of Number 4.

Walking up to the front door, Harry absently noted that the curtains were drawn. Ordinarily, Petunia only closed the curtains when he was in a room. She didn't want the neighbors to see him more than they had to. He turned the knob and found that the door was locked. '_Now that's weird,_' he thought. _'I thought they'd be afraid to lock me out. Between the possibility of me doing magic and the fact that the neighbors would surely notice…'_ With that thought in mind, he gently rapped his knuckles against the door. A series of popping noises of varying intensity drew his attention behind him.

"Professor Dumbledore?" he asked incredulously. It was Dumbledore, his long white hair and beard waving around rather dramatically in the wind, but he wasn't alone. Surprisingly enough, Fleur Delacour was standing beside him, her silvery blond hair drawing Harry's eyes briefly before he was able to note anyone else. Next to her stood a pale witch with a heart shaped face and spiked, violently pink hair. Though she was quite beautiful, Harry found it a bit difficult to focus on her instead of Fleur. Behind them stood the tall, black wizard who looked like someone that shouldn't be crossed. As the man turned his head in a vain attempt to see through the curtains, Harry caught the golden glint of a large hoop earring. On Dumbledore's other side stood an extremely twitchy Mad-Eye Moody, along with Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagall and a man with straw-colored hair who looked as though his head had been thatched.

"Harry, get away from the door!" Dumbledore called urgently. Harry, comprehension dawning on him, made to leave, but the door had just opened behind him.

"_Accio Potter!" _A high, cold voice shouted. Harry felt his stomach drop as he was pulled backwards. He knew that voice.

Lord Voldemort had come to Privet Drive.

The people around Dumbledore surged forward until he held out both hands to stop them, though Fleur looked mutinous. The shadows behind Voldemort relaxed. It seemed that he wasn't alone either. Three masked Death Eaters walked in front of the rest to stand just behind their master, who remained on the threshold with Harry.

"Very good, Dumbledore," Voldemort hissed. "Keep your pets at bay if you want the boy returned to you in one piece." Harry knew that Voldemort would never release him, and he also knew that there was nothing that anyone could do about it. _'Doesn't mean I won't fight him when he tries.'_ Harry thought furiously.

"Come now, Tom, give me a little more credit than that," Dumbledore said, his voice dripping with barely concealed power. "You know as well as I do that should you kill Harry, you'll never make it out of here alive. The wards preventing magical transportation are still working, and no number of Death Eaters will be great enough to get you past us. Just hand Harry to me, and you'll be allowed to leave. You already know that I always keep my word."

"You're certainly confident," Voldemort spat. "As usual, though, you fail to understand my motivation for being here. I'm not here to kill Potter; I have no intention of providing our world with a martyr, make no mistake. You'll get Potter back in a moment, completely unharmed, just as soon as I finish with him."

"Finish with me? Why Tom, I didn't know you cared," Harry mocked. "But I'm afraid you're just not my type." He caught Fleur's eye, who now looked incredulous as well as fearful, though the witch next to her seemed to be suppressing a smile. _'Well, that was one of the stupidest things I've ever said.'_ Harry mused.

"_Crucio!" _Was Voldemort's only response. Harry fall to his knees but refused to cry out. Dumbledore and the others could only watch helplessly while the Death Eaters seemed to be laughing. After thirty seconds or so, Voldemort lifted the curse.

"Now that we're done with the entertainment portion of today's events, perhaps we can move on to what I really came here for," Voldemort said to Dumbledore, smiling pointedly at Harry's shaking form.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow that, Tom," Dumbledore said gravely.

"It's either this or death. His death. The only pain he'll be feeling today has faded, unless he is foolish enough to speak out again, of course. There's no need to do anything, it will only take a moment." His eyes suddenly flashed. _"Latrocino Veneficus Vox!"_

Harry barely had time to see Dumbledore's look of utter horror before he had to shut his eyes in a vain attempt to block out the effects of the spell. It wasn't pain; it wasn't physical at all. It was more like having your very soul ripped in two. He could literally see his strength flowing from his body. _'I don't know what he's doing,'_ Harry thought. _'but I guess this is the only chance I'll get to fight back.'_

Harry focused on the horrible feeling in his mind, completely shutting out the outside world, and endeavored to embrace it. Once he had identified the feeling, he was able to see, with his mind's eye, what was happening. His magical energy, a massive amoebic shape of white light appeared to be spinning around a lightning-shaped drain, his scar. As he watched, hoping to figure out some way to stop, the white light shrank considerably. Within seconds, it was almost completely drained. _'NO!'_ Harry's mind screamed, knowing instinctively that once his magic was completely gone, he would never be able to recover it.

He watched helplessly as it all went dark. The feeling of losing everything was gone, but it was replaced with a need, an animalistic need to replenish it. Harry suddenly felt like he was inside a vacuum, one that was sucking the air from everything around. At first everything remained dark, but then he saw a white bolt of lightning, his scar again. It glowed gold, and the white light began to flow back in. Mixed in, however, was a dark red that reminded him of blood along with a much more cheerful orange glow.

Then, all at once, there wasn't any more white coming in. The other colors had long since stopped their flow. His scar changed from white to green and began pulling in more magic. This came along with a shout of pain in the back of Harry's mind, though he felt none. This magic was white as well, but it felt different from the rest. It was _dirty_. Upon reaching the rest of his magic, though, he could feel it being purified. Suddenly, Harry heard another shout, though this one didn't sound like it was expressing pain. It sounded passionate, yet satisfied, and distinctly feminine. With it came, rather than magic through his scar, a glow that surrounded his magical core. It was red, but soft, and it came all at once. Harry felt his magic shift to accommodate it. He knew instinctively that it had nothing to do with power. No, it was something else entirely.

After the glow came, Harry heard a primal shriek, one of pain, frustration and hate. _'Voldemort.'_ he thought, grimly satisfied that he'd managed to do some damage, somehow. Following the shriek, he heard a magical snap, which caused the light emitting from the image of his scar to vanish, though the image remained, bathed in the glow of his magical core. _'That can't be my physical scar, or my brain wouldn't exist! All of that magic is right where it's supposed to be. I wonder what this place inside of me really is…'_

Harry's musings were cut short by a new feeling. This one resembled the Cruciatus Curse, but one with a purpose. The Cruciatus worked by stimulating every nerve in the human body with the message of pain. The pain was low-grade enough to prevent the brain from shutting it out, but it added up to feel like many described it: like having a thousand burning hot knives plunged all over your body at once. This feeling started the same way, but Harry then got the impression that every knife was pulling his flesh and bone in a unique direction, causing his entire body to stretch in the most excruciatingly painful way imaginable. The pain was so intense that Harry didn't notice that he couldn't see his magical core anymore. He didn't feel himself slip into unconsciousness.

"Ugh…"

"Mr. Potter? Can you hear me?"

"Mm…mwha-what happened?" Harry's eyes fluttered open. He saw the familiar sight of the ceiling of the Hogwarts hospital wing's ceiling, a sight he was far too used to for his own liking. The motherly face of Madam Pomfrey was the last thing to swim into focus. "What am I doing here? Er, don't tell me I slept through the whole summer?"

Madam Pomfrey laughed, "No, Mr. Potter, you haven't. It _has_ been nearly three days, though."

"What in the world happened to me?" he sat up. "Voldemort! He was at Privet Drive! Dumbledore was there! Where are they? Where's everyone that came with? Are they all right?"

"To my knowledge, no one is injured. Now relax, young man," Madam Pomfrey admonished, pushing him back into bed. "I'll sedate you if I must. I'll inform Professor Dumbledore that you're awake just as soon as I can make a quick diagnostic. And don't you even think about fighting me on this," she said, effectively cutting Harry off.

The diagnostic didn't take long. A couple of muttered spells combined with a couple of sweeps over his body with her wand apparently told her all that she needed to know.

"You're healthy enough to go see the headmaster yourself, but your muscles have grown so much that they should be a bit weaker than usual. Your magic compensated for most of it, but you should expect to be a little weaker."

"Grown? I've grown?"

"Yes, and a great deal, at that. I daresay the young ladies won't be able to keep your hands off of you! As a matter of fact, the girl who I've been teaching, Ms. Delacour, has hardly left your bedside. While I admire her dedication, it certainly isn't professional." She trailed off on that tangent for some time, muttering about Healers that get too attached while Harry lay still, absolutely dumbfounded.

"Er, can I have a mirror?" he asked, interrupting what was obviously well on its way to becoming a tirade.

"Use the one on the wall," she advised, pointing at the seven-foot mirror by the door. "But here," she tossed him a handful of clothes. "Change into those first, then you can feel free to go up to the headmaster's office. The password is 'Tootsie Rolls', if I'm not mistaken. I'll be in the other room, I've got a potion simmering."

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said, sitting up again.

"Don't mention it, dear," she replied absently, bustling out of the room and closing the door behind her.

Harry swung his legs around and stood up, stretching his arms over his head as he did. He sorted through the clothes, discovering a great deal more than he would need. He left the robes on the bed, deciding that jeans and a t-shirt would do for seeing the headmaster. Slipping on his trainers, he was about to step in front of the mirror, when the door to the adjacent room burst open. Harry barely had time to register Fleur's silvery blond hair before she hit him like a freight train. Harry was quite surprised that he didn't even stumble backwards when she hit him. He didn't feel any of the weakness that Madam Pomfrey had been expecting. After about a minute, Harry became aware that she was speaking into his shoulder, though it took a while for her to calm down enough to speak English. "'Arry, oh 'Arry, thank you so much for taking it away!"

"Taking what away? Fleur? Fleur?" Before saying her name the second time, he grabbed her upper arms and forced her a few inches away from him. "What did I take away?"

She looked up at him tremulously before answering. "Can you not tell? Ah! But of course, you never were affected by my charms. My veela magic is gone, it is in you now, 'Arry!"

Harry looked at her for quite a while, his mouth agape for nearly half of the time, before he finally organized his thoughts enough to respond. "I was always affected, Fleur, I just managed to beat my urges back. But you're right; I don't feel the same magic coming from you. I don't think I've got your powers, though. I don't feel any different, although I'm loads taller than I was."

"Zere can be no doubt zat you 'ave my veela abilities," Fleur said, her voice suddenly sultry. "In all 'onesty, I am 'aving difficulties keeping my 'ands off of you." She accentuated her point by running a hand absently up and down his arm, causing him to notice, for the first time, that he was a great deal more muscular than he had been before.

"Is…is that why I've got these muscles all of a sudden?" Harry asked, blushing at the contact.

"Well," Fleur said, suddenly thoughtful, "zis 'as never 'appened before, to my knowledge. I suppose my abilities allowed you to transform into an idealized version of yourself, zough I cannot be sure." Her hand was still on his arm, though it had thankfully stopped moving.

"Well," Harry began, suddenly struck by the awkwardness of the moment. A girl had never shown an interest in him before, not like this, and Fleur was gorgeous! "Madam Pomfrey told me I should talk to Professor Dumbledore. She said he'd be able to explain what happened."

"Wait!" Fleur said as he made to get up. Her other hand was suddenly on his thigh, though he wasn't sure if she had noticed. "You cannot trust your 'eadmaster with zis information."

"What? Why not?" Harry asked incredulously.

"'E is not what 'e seems," Fleur insisted. "I know zat 'e cares for you, but 'e seems to manipulate people, and I felt him probe my mind after you 'ad been chosen by ze Goblet."

"Wait, what d'you mean by probed?" Harry asked.

"'E is able to read ze thoughts of uzzers through Legilimency. As a veela, I was immune. I believe I still am, zough I would be reluctant to test zat theory."

"Well, if I'm immune now, and he's been reading my mind all of this time, then how can I stop him knowing that I've suddenly got veela protection?" Harry wondered.

"Well, first you must tell me, in your own words, what you felt happened once you were cursed." Fleur was plainly preparing for a long conversation. She pushed him back onto the bed, keeping at him until his back was against the headboard. Then, smiling mischievously, she climbed up and snuggled up against him, her head on his shoulder and her right arm across his stomach. Harry's lap twitched slightly, and he could have sworn her smile grew. After seeing his reaction to her closeness, she swung her right leg over Harry's, and proceeded to wrap it around his as tightly as possible. Harry couldn't help but notice as the knee-length skirt she wore rode up slightly, revealing most of her thigh. Fighting the sudden urge to tear off her clothes, Harry carefully put one arm on her back, letting the other rest on the bed, though she quickly grabbed that hand with her own and interlocked their fingers. Harry gulped. Fleur's smile widened even more.

"Er, right, what were we talking about?" Harry asked in a strangled voice.

"Yes, yes, let me think," Fleur said, reaching her left arm through the small space between the small of Harry's back and the corner of the bed to begin stroking his side. "I believe," she began rubbing her leg up and down Harry's. "zat we were about to discuss zis curse zat hit you." She stopped her leg, but it was now as high as it could possibly go, with her calf against his inner-thigh and her knee against the considerable bulge in his pants.

"Bloody hell," Harry said, his lust finally getting the better of him. He pulled her to the center of the bed, getting off of it himself in the process, which caused her to groan in a way that made his knees go weak. He immediately hopped back on and crawled on top of her, one leg between hers, and leaned down to kiss her. When their lips touched, Harry suddenly felt completely energized, completely comfortable. This was exactly where he was meant to be. Fleur immediately rose up to meet him, applying a great deal more pressure and nearly forcing him back. Harry pushed against her harder, allowing his body to lie flush on top of hers, forcing her down. Harry lifted himself up slightly, not enough for her to be able to lift herself, but enough so that his weight wouldn't be pressing down on her.

Harry, operating on a level of instinct he didn't know he had, opened his mouth slightly, tasting her lips with his tongue. Before he knew it, she had opened her mouth and her tongue was forcing its way into his mouth. Harry's kissing was every bit as frantic as hers as their tongues battled for a position of dominance. Finally, Harry pulled his head back and, before she could reattach her lips to his, began to kiss his way down her jaw line to her neck. She moaned softly as he started to nip playfully at her skin.

Fleur, with Harry's face out of reach, began to grind her crotch against the bulge in his pants. Slowly at first, but quickly picking up, Fleur was now moaning at such a level that Harry feared that they'd have Madam Pomfrey scolding them soon. With great reluctance, Harry pulled back and rolled over so that he was once again beside her.

"Fleur," Harry said, grabbing her upper arms to stop her kissing him again. "We can't do this, not right now, at least."

Her bottom lip quivered. Had Harry been standing up, he knew his legs would have given out. "But I thought you were enjoying yourself."

"You know I was," Harry said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "But we're not exactly in the right places for anything like that, and I've still got to talk to Dumbledore." The mention of Dumbledore seemed to break her out of her trance. Before speaking, she snuggled into him again, though she kept her legs mostly to herself, merely leaning one foot against his shin.

"I was not saying zat you shouldn't tell him anything, just avoid bringing up your veela abilities."

"Maybe I'll be able to fool him today, but he's bound to find out sooner or later, especially if he sees you. Though I doubt he's affected any more than I was by your charm, I'm sure he notices it. Also, how will he be able to miss it if all of the girls I meet react so strongly around me?"

"I rarely see him. I 'ave refused to become a full member of ze Order of ze Phoenix until—"

"The Order of the Phoenix?" Harry interrupted.

"It is Dumbledore's resistance. Most members are left over from ze first war, but zere are a couple zat were too young zen. I 'ave a very good friend 'oo falls under zat category. I will introduce you to 'er later."

"Right," Harry said absently, attempting to regain his lost train of thought. "Sorry, you were talking about how you rarely see Dumbledore."

"Yes, thank you. As I said, I am not a full member of ze Order, not until Madam Pomfrey declares me a fully trained Healer. I spend most of my time at ze 'eadquarters, which is where we shall take you after your meeting with Dumbledore, I think."

"Where's the headquarters?" Harry asked.

"I am unable to say, for it is under ze Fidelius Charm. Are you familiar with zat particular charm?"

"Yes," Harry said, unable to keep all of the anger he suddenly felt out of his voice.

"Am I correct in assuming zat zere is some story behind zis reaction?" Fleur enquired. Harry nodded. "I 'ope you trust me enough to tell me one day. Where was I? Ah yes, ze 'eadquarters. Dumbledore is almost never zere, only for ze occasional meeting zat we are all required to attend. Technically, I am not needed 'ere, I only came in order to stay with you."

"Why?" Harry asked. "My veela charm didn't kick in until I woke up, did it?"

"No, it did not," Fleur said carefully, "but I knew zat it would. My veela abilities were gone, and you 'ad suddenly grown into ze most attractive man I 'ave ever seen, so it did not take me long to realize where my powers 'ad ended up. Besides, I 'ave 'eld you in ze 'ighest regards since you rescued Gabrielle, and your actions since zen 'ave been nothing short of exemplary."

"That reminds me, why are you grateful to be rid of your veela powers?" Harry asked, studiously ignoring Fleur's compliments.

"It is very difficult to understand, 'Arry. I fear that even after I explain it, you won't truly understand until you 'ave been out in ze world with your abilities."

"Try me," Harry insisted.

"If only you would let me," Fleur said with a lascivious wink, causing Harry to blush. "I was always a very pretty girl, but it didn't really affect anything until much later. Veela abilities don't come into affect until puberty. When zat 'it, my girlfriends began to disappear. Some couldn't take ze fact zat men almost always looked at me before zem, while uzzers felt that I 'ad changed more zan physically. At ze moment I 'ave but one female friend, and I only met 'er through ze Order." Her voice broke. Harry tightened his grip on her, giving her strength to continue. "One by one, my male friends began to see me as more zan zey did before. I was surprised by 'ow many literally attempted to simply grab me and fulfill zeir desires. Zat is why I hate being a veela. Perhaps it will be better for you. You are physically stronger zan I am, and I doubt zat any woman would be stupid enough to attempt to rape you. Also, I think zat girls may prove 'arder to affect than boys. A veela's abilities tend to stimulate one's sex drive, something zat is generally more sensitive in men zan in women."

Harry was slightly dazed, but regained his composure quickly enough that Fleur took no notice. "We can only hope. All right, we've established why I can't tell Dumbledore the whole truth, would you still like to hear what happened?" At her nod, Harry took a deep breath and began his story. He described the feeling of having his magic drained, and the process he used to see it in his mind's eye. He described the abrupt reversal in flow after everything had gone out; giving particular focus on the different things that flowed into him.

"I suspect zat you absorbed ze wards around ze house," Fleur said. "But I think zat Dumbledore will be able to tell you with much more certainty. Is zere more?"

There was more. Harry told her about the feeling of being stretched (she came to the same conclusion that he had earlier, that it was a part of gaining the veela powers), which brought him to the present. When he finished, Fleur reluctantly disengaged and allowed him to walk over to stand before the mirror. What he saw made his eyes bug out.

Gone was the short, thin boy that Harry had previously identified himself as. He now stood just a shade under six feet. He still had the same mop of messy black hair, though it now steered clear of his face, providing him with an open view of his scar. Looking into his same emerald eyes, Harry realized something.

"Fleur, why don't I need my glasses?"

"If I 'ad to 'azard a guess, I would say zat your magical growth spurt 'as fixed your eyes."

"Brilliant!" he said, smiling brightly. He noticed that his teeth were perfect. They hadn't been bad before, but nowhere near their current state. His body, rather than being unpleasantly skinny was now lean and tightly muscled. Harry experimentally flexed a bicep and saw Fleur bite her lip, an undisguised expression of lust on her face, as he did.

"Fleur, am I still hitting you with my veela powers?" Harry asked, turning to face her.

"Much less zan before," Fleur replied calmly. "Zey are linked to your emotions. Zey are more likely to emerge without you wanting zem to when you're feeling 'ighly emotional. Now zat you are more emotionally stable, your abilities 'ave been dampened accordingly."

"Is there a way to shut them off entirely?" Harry asked.

"I am afraid not," Fleur said sadly. "With practice, you can increase or decrease ze intensity as you please, but zey will still intensify somewhat in stressful situations. Zey can never be fully shut off, but you will eventually be able to reduce zem to a barely noticeable level."

"Can you teach me?" Harry asked.

Fleur blushed and looked down. "I want to teach you, but I am not sure if it is a good idea."

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"Most veela learn to control their abilities from zeir muzzers, because zere will not be any attraction. If I teach you, I will be affected by your veela abilities constantly. You 'ave already seen 'ow much your power affects me; imagine me after a full day of zat, or a week. In order for me to teach you control, you must be willing to 'ave intercourse with me, because uzzerwise I would be unable to function from an excess of pent-up sexual desire."

Harry scratched the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. "Honestly, I hoped we'd be having sex anyway. I was right there with you. You may not be a veela anymore, but you're still easily the most beautiful girl I know."

"I am so 'appy to 'ear you say zat!" Fleur said, a radiant smile on her face. She hopped off the bed and crossed the room in an instant, pulling Harry in for a sizzling kiss. Both of their faces were flushed when they pulled apart.

"So you'll teach me?" Harry asked, his breathing unsteady.

"I will," Fleur promised, much in the same condition as he was.

"I guess I'll go talk to Dumbledore, then," Harry said.

"Very well, I will see you later tonight, no matter where you end up," Fleur replied, kissing him on the cheek before walking out the same door that Madam Pomfrey had earlier.

"So let's see here," Harry muttered to himself, opening the other door and leaving the hospital wing. "I've somehow absorbed Fleur's veela abilities, apparently absorbed the power of the wards and possibly something from Voldemort as well. I wonder what Dumbledore's got to say about all of this."

While walking up to the headmaster's office, Harry kept his focus inward, attempting to see his magic again in his mind's eye. He only managed to walk into a wall, which was about when he realized that even if it were possible to see his magic again, he'd only be able to manage it when doing absolutely nothing else, and walking around Hogwarts seemed to qualify as doing something.

"Tootsie Rolls," Harry said, rolling his eyes at Dumbledore's odd theme for his passwords. _'He must be pretty confident, otherwise he'd never make his passwords something that anyone could guess, if given enough time.'_ Upon reaching the door at the top of the spiral staircase, Harry heard Dumbledore's "Come in, Harry," before he had time to knock.

Opening the door, Harry saw Dumbledore in his customary pose, sitting on his desk with his elbows up and the tips of his long fingers pressed together.

"Hello, Harry, please have a seat," Dumbledore said with a benign smile.

"Hello, sir," Harry greeted, nervous at the prospect of lying to one of the two most powerful wizards in the world.

"I suppose Madam Pomfrey has cleared you?" Dumbledore asked. "I can't imagine that even you are capable of getting out from under her watchful eye."

"Yes, sir, she cleared me a few minutes ago. She said that my muscles aren't very strong because of this sudden growth spurt, but I've never felt better."

"Yes, I suppose the magic you absorbed kept your muscles from becoming as weak as they would from naturally expanding that much," Dumbledore said, more to himself than to Harry. "My apologies, Harry, I became temporarily distracted. I fear we have a great deal to talk about today. I'm sure you have a great deal of questions, but I ask that you hold them until later. I assure you that we'll address you concerns before the end of this meeting. I must begin by asking you to relive what you remember beginning with the curse that Voldemort used on you. After we briefly discuss that, I'll tell you about what happened around you, for I believe your focus was inward at the time. Are you ready?"

For the second time that day, Harry summarized his experiences while under Voldemort's curse, though this time he left out the part about hearing Fleur and gaining the soft red glow around his magic.

"I'm sorry to force you to relive that, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, "but I _am_ glad that you were able to remember as much as you have. I will now explain my understanding of what occurred inside of you, then we can move on to what was happening to the rest of us. Voldemort used a brand of ancient magic that I believed to be outside of his knowledge. Using a combination of the ancient blood magic around your home and the connection you have with him through your scar, he attempted to rob you of your magic."

"So he was trying to turn me into a Squib?" Harry asked, having come to that conclusion on his own.

"Indeed," Dumbledore said gravely. "However, he did not realize how your connection with him would react after such an attempt. Your scar allowed you to take your power back from him by force, bringing with it every bit of loose magic around, meaning the wards around Privet Drive. I'm afraid that you will never be able to stay there again. Not only have the blood wards been proven to be worse than useless to us, but also they no longer exist, having been absorbed by you. The other magic you felt came from Voldemort himself. Upon stealing your magic away from you, it automatically bonded with his. When you sucked your power back, you unwittingly brought in a great deal of his along with it. Harry, you are now considerably more powerful than you were before. Given enough training, your power may surpass mine someday, though we will not even know if that's a true possibility for quite some time."

"Does that mean Voldemort's weaker than he was, if I absorbed so much of his power?" Harry asked.

"I'm afraid it's only temporary," Dumbledore said. "Because you only took a portion of his power, what remains will replenish what was lost, though it will take time. Voldemort will not strike out for a few months, and perhaps even longer."

"So I'm loads stronger, and Voldemort is temporarily weakened," Harry said thoughtfully. "What about my appearance, what caused that?"

"Honestly, I am uncertain," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "It's possible that it was a reaction to the blood wards, or some unfamiliar aspect of Voldemort's magic, but I'm afraid that all I can do is guess. In any case, I don't think you need to concern yourself with it. Just enjoy the effect you will undoubtedly have on the female population at Hogwarts." His eyes were twinkling like mad.

Harry sat back and thought for a moment before bringing up the next question on his mind. "Professor, you said that I wouldn't have to go back to Privet Drive. I thought that was already given…aren't my relatives dead?"

"Dead?" Dumbledore asked. "No, your aunt and uncle had taken your cousin to an athletic tournament, I believe." He studied Harry's neutral expression for a moment. "Were you saddened by the thought that your relatives had died?"

"No," Harry said simply. When Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise he elaborated. "Ever since learning about what I am, I've always been determined to be a better person than any of them. Since they're all secretly hoping for me to die in a horrible accident, I don't think they deserve any emotion from me, whether positive or negative. Even that's a step up from the way they feel about me."

The headmaster sighed. "I suppose your attitude is understandable. Given their feelings towards you, I should be a bit surprised that you bear them no ill will. As to where you're staying…" Dumbledore trailed off, picking up his wand and waving it at the door. Seeming satisfied, he turned back to Harry. "The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London."

"What's the Order of the Phoenix?" Harry asked, feigning ignorance. "And is the headquarters under the Fidelius Charm, is that why you just told me that?"

"Very good, Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling. "If school was in session, I would reward you with house points. However, since it isn't, I shall have to reward you by answering your questions to the best of my ability. The Order of the Phoenix is the organization, led by myself, that fought Voldemort and his Death Eaters during the previous war. Your parents were in it, as were Sirius, Professor Lupin, Professor McGonagall, Alastor Moody and Molly and Arthur Weasley. Many of our members lost their lives during the war, or worse, in the case of the Longbottoms. However, we have recruited a great deal of new members, including Miss Delacour, who I'm sure you remember from the tournament."

"She was at Privet Drive," Harry said.

"Indeed she was. Even though she is not, technically, a full member yet, she is in training to be the Order's Healer. She insisted on coming to your aid. If you find the time to speak with her at Grimmauld Place, I'm sure you will discover that she has the potential to be a great friend to you."

"What's Grimmauld Place like?" Harry asked, not wanting to discuss Fleur with Dumbledore any more than was absolutely necessary.

The headmaster smiled, thinking that Harry had changed the subject for an altogether different reason. "It's the Black family home. I will leave it to Sirius to explain the details to you."

"Sirius is there?" Harry asked, his eyes lighting up.

"Yes, and he is quite eager to see you." Dumbledore answered, still smiling. "He was quite furious when I told him that he could not come along to save you, I think it only made him angrier when I allowed Fleur to come."

"You did the right thing, sir. He would have been spotted by someone, and then the situation would have been even more complicated."

"I was not worried about his cover being blown," Dumbledore said. "An Auror by the name of Kingsley Shacklebolt has taken over his investigation, and is feeding the Ministry false information that he is in Albania, searching for Voldemort. Mr. Shacklebolt was one of those who came to your aid."

"Was he the tall one? With that massive gold earring?" Harry asked. Dumbledore nodded. "So why didn't you let Sirius come if you weren't worried about his cover?"

"Sirius embodies the best and worst traits of the Gryffindor house. He is one of the bravest people I have ever known, but his bravery often borders on recklessness. When I was forced to hold everyone back after Voldemort grabbed you, Sirius would have ignored me. He would have attacked and gotten himself killed."

"You really think he'd be that reckless?" Harry asked.

"I do, and I fear that it is partly my fault. He cannot leave his home. While I'm not worried about most people recognizing him, I _am_, on the other hand, concerned that a chance encounter with a Death Eater could spell his end. Anyone who knows the truth about Sirius' loyalties must never be allowed to see Sirius. With most of the Death Eaters with Voldemort, I wasn't worried about it at the time."

"I guess that makes sense," Harry said slowly, obviously deep in thought. "Professor, could you tell me about what was happening while I was being cursed?"

"Of course. When Voldemort began to absorb your powers, he immediately used them to erect a shield around the two of you to prevent any of us from getting to you easily. His Death Eaters were there to prevent any of us from having time to get past the shield. As a result, we were unable to do anything more than watch. When you ran out of power, Voldemort straightened immediately, for he had been crouching. However, a second later he was crouched again, in obvious pain, while you seemed to be gaining strength. You absorbed the shield around you, as well as the wards and blood magic around Privet Drive. I was able to pull you away from Voldemort by that point. He forcibly broke the connection with you later, and was able to apparate away with his Death Eaters because the Anti-Apparation ward had long since been absorbed. After he was gone, your body went through the quickest growth spurt I have ever seen. You grew a full six inches in just under five minutes, and rather than becoming thinner, you bulked up considerably. Miss Tonks seemed quite interested in how tightly your old clothes fit you afterwards."

"Tonks? Was that the woman standing next to Fleur?" Harry asked, not noticing Dumbledore's insinuation.

Dumbledore thought for a moment. "I suppose. There were only three women there, and you already knew both Professor McGonagall and Miss Delacour. Her full name is Nymphadora Tonks, though she insists that everyone call her by her surname. She is quite young, having only completed her Auror training in June. Mr. Shacklebolt recruited her for the Order a few days later."

"Is there anything else I should know about her?" Harry asked.

"She is a metamorphmagus, meaning she can change her appearance at will. Though my knowledge is limited on the subject, I believe that Metamorphmagi can change everything, except for gender. I was told that she has become fast friends with Miss Delacour, so I imagine you will get along with her as well."

'_So that's the friend Fleur mentioned earlier.'_ Harry thought. _'Dumbledore's probably right about us getting along.'_

"Is there anything else we need to talk about, Professor?" Harry asked after a long pause. "I've got a one more question, but I think it's better to ask is after we've taken care of everything else."

"Just one thing," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling again. "Voldemort is obviously targeting you, so I feel that you will need training to be prepared to escape from an attack, if nothing else. Unfortunately, the Ministry is stubbornly denying his return, so they will be as stubborn as ever regarding underage magic. Therefore, I hope you will begin a physical training regime for yourself and your friends. I have asked Miss Tonks to help you get started."

"My friends? So Ron and Hermione are there?"

"The entire Weasley family, save Charlie, is currently staying at Grimmauld Place, and Miss Granger will be joining you there in two weeks."

"Right, so we'll all be doing physical training?" Harry asked.

"Assuming they wish to, yes," Dumbledore said. "If you tell them the reasoning behind this training, I doubt they would refuse. Now that my last point has been addressed, I believe you had a question?"

"Er, yes," Harry said, suddenly nervous. He had asked Dumbledore this question before, but hadn't yet received an answer. "Why is Voldemort after me? Why did he kill my parents and try to kill me when I was a baby?"

Dumbledore's face fell. "Harry, the time fast approaches when I will be able to tell you that. I ask that you be patient with me, and in return I promise you that I will tell you everything soon."

Harry sighed. "Yes, sir, I'll try to be patient. I can't say that I expected you to tell me, not really."

"Thank you, Harry, I know how hard it must be for you, but when I finally do tell you you'll understand why I can't just yet. Now, I believe we've covered everything important. Your things have already been moved to headquarters, so you may as well just Floo over there now."

"Sir, what time is it?" Harry asked, grabbing a pinch of Floo powder from the tin on the mantle of Dumbledore's fireplace and tossing it in, causing the flames to rise and turn emerald green.

"Nearly eleven in the morning," Dumbledore answered, looking at his watch. "Does your watch not work, Harry?"

"No, it broke while I was down in the lake during the second task," Harry replied. "I've got to buy a new one at some point."

"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "Well, until we meet again, Harry." He stood up and offered his hand, which Harry shook.

"See you later, sir," Harry said before backing into the fireplace. "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!" Harry called. Immediately, Harry was reminded of why he loathed Floo travel. He saw flashes of various fireplaces as he spun violently inside the stone tube (_'Bloody hell, can't they install padding?'_), traveling at a speed that should not have been possible. Harry was caught by surprise when he emerged, so surprised that he actually managed to remain standing.

Another surprise was _where_ he emerged, though it wasn't a good one. Based on appearances, he was in the home belonging to some long dead dark wizard, not Sirius' family. The walls were stone grey with peeling black paint in some areas. There was a painting of a dreary looking house hanging lopsided on one wall. Harry noticed he was standing on a torn rug that, thanks to a combination of age and dust, was barely distinguishable from the floor on which it lay. Suddenly wishing that his wand wasn't with the rest of his things, Harry resolved himself to doing a bit of exploration.

He crept out of the room, noting that the door had been removed from its hinges and now rested against the wall in the hallway. Before leaving the doorway, Harry noticed a set of curtains in front of one spot on the wall. He was tempted to pull them back, but something seemed wrong about them, or perhaps it was whatever was behind them.

As he walked, a board would creek every now and then as he continued on, causing him to wince. When he neared the stairs, Harry heard muffled voices coming from above him. _'They don't sound evil.'_ He thought hopefully. _'But then again, they _are_ screaming at each other…if only I could hear what they're saying…'_

With that in mind, Harry dashed up the stairs, taking them three at a time. Now that he was on the same floor, he knew he'd be able to eavesdrop, but something else caught his attention first. The upstairs seemed every bit as decrepit as the parts that Harry had already seen, but one wall reached new levels of repulsiveness. House-elves, or more precisely, the heads of house-elves, were mounted on the walls. There were at least twenty, all wrinkled and wearing identical expressions of surprise. The shouting began again from a nearby room, breaking Harry out of his reverie. He slowly approached the door, now no longer worried about not making any noise.

"I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY ON THE MATTER, I WILL NOT LET YOU ANYWHERE NEAR HARRY'S FIREBOLT UNTIL HE GIVES YOU SOME FORM OF PERMISSION!"

'_Nice to see someone's looking out for me, I should pay more attention to Ginny this year,'_ Harry thought, _'unless she starts coming onto me.'_

"YOU KNOW AS WELL AS I DO THAT HE WOULD LET ME USE IT! YOU'RE JUST GETTING READY TO SMARM UP TO HIM WHEN HE GETS HERE, GET HIM TO LIKE YOU!"

"I HAVE A BOYFRIEND YOU INSENSITIVE PRAT!"

Harry decided not to let Ron respond to that, because anything involving Ginny and boys was a surefire way to start a row with him. Before Ron had time to formulate a response, Harry drew back and hammered his palms against the door repeatedly, hoping to get their attention before things could escalate. Without waiting for them to respond, Harry pushed the door open and looked at them, a massive grin on his face. "You don't know how relieved I am to see you two here, I thought for sure we were in some dark wizard's abandoned place." Looking around the room, Harry saw it was somewhat nicer than the others he had seen thus far. The dust was at a more manageable level, and the only furniture, a dresser and two beds, looked useable.

"Good to see you too, mate," Ron said, the argument forgotten. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't…look like you."

Harry grinned. "No worries, I'm familiar with the change. Once the twins get in here I'll tell you all about my magic-induced growth spurt." He turned to look at Ginny for the first time and fought the urge to groan. She was staring at him, mouth wide, eyes agape, and she wasn't looking at his face. Harry looked quickly back at Ron, hoping her brother hadn't noticed.

Fortunately, Ron was oblivious. "Fred and George? Why do you need them here?" he asked.

"It's complicated. I'd really rather explain everything with everyone in the room. Hey, Ginny, sorry I didn't say hi right away," Harry said loudly, snapping her out of her trance. Her face immediately turned beet red.

"Oh…hello Harry," she said without looking at him. "Er, I'll just go get Fred and George…be right back." With that, she dashed out the door without looking at him.

"Blimey, what's got into her?" Ron asked.

"No idea," Harry lied. "So what's this I hear about Ginny having a boyfriend?"

It was Ron's turn to blush from a combination of anger and embarrassment. "Dunno, that's the first I've heard of one. Guess we'll have to find out who he is and—how much of that conversation did you hear?"

"Not too much. I'm not sure why you wanted to ride the Firebolt so badly that you couldn't wait for me, though," Harry said, punching him in the arm good-naturedly.

Ron's blush deepened. "Well…I was considering maybe going out for Keeper next year, with Wood gone and all. I thought maybe I could use the practice."

"That's a brilliant idea!" Harry exclaimed. "D'you have much experience?"

"Well, I always play with my brothers over the summer," Ron said, looking hopeful.

"Feel free to borrow the Firebolt any time," Harry said. "Although I don't know where you'd go to fly it around here. We're in London, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but Mum was going to make lunch for us today at the Burrow, since she's off duty today for the Order—you _do_ know what the Order is, right?"

"Yeah, Dumbledore explained it to me," Harry said, deciding to keep his situation with Fleur from Ron for as long as possible.

"Sorry, wasn't sure. Anyway, Mum hates it here; apparently it's nearly impossible to clean. Some kind of magic is keeping it like this. She figured that we could use a bit of a break from this place, so I figured I could bring the Firebolt out if you hadn't gotten here yet."

"Go ahead, I just hope your mum will let me tag along."

"And why wouldn't she?" came a familiar pair of voices from the doorway.

"Apparently Voldemort's not a fan of mine, so I'm a bit of a security risk." Everyone present flinched, except for Harry. He nodded a greeting at Fred and George, who grinned back and pulled a very reluctant Ginny into the room behind them. She was carefully studying her shoes.

"If only you hadn't bulked up so much," George said mournfully.

"Then our little Gin-Gin would be over her ickle crush," Fred simpered.

"Don't make fun of her, you gits," Harry said in exasperation. "She'll get you with that Bat-Bogey spell if you don't give it a rest." Ginny turned even redder.

"He's right," Ron said threateningly.

"Oh, is ickle Ronniekins going to stop us?" George asked, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"I didn't bring you lot in here to torment your siblings," Harry deadpanned. "It's actually a bit serious, unless you don't want to know why I'm here."

The twins quieted immediately and sat down on one of the beds. "Anything for our chief investor," Fred mouthed with a wink.

"Thanks," Harry said, sitting down on the bed opposite them. Ron immediately sat next to him, while Ginny walked around to the other side of Fred and George to sit where Harry couldn't see her at all. Rolling his eyes, Harry continued. "Three days ago, I was coming back from my morning jog, and Voldemort was waiting for me in my relatives' house." The flinch was even more pronounced this time.

"Wait, he was in your house? I thought that the wards were supposed to stop him getting in," Ron said.

"Hang on, I was just getting to that," Harry replied. "The main ward that was around Number 4 was the same blood protection magic that saved me from Voldemort when I was a baby." Another flinch. "You lot really need to stop doing that when I say his name. Voldemort's not going to go away just because you refuse to say his bloody name! What was I talking about? Oh, right, the blood protection. Well, as part of the ritual to give himself a body, Voldemort used my blood, so goodbye protection. Dumbledore and the Order came to the rescue just as I knocked on the door. I didn't know he was there yet. Right when I figured it out and turn to go to Dumbledore, Voldemort hit me with a summoning charm, and things weren't looking too good." Harry was getting into the story now, having a captive audience didn't hurt.

"He and Dumbledore started arguing, apparently Voldemort couldn't get past the wards to escape with me, so there was a bit of a standoff, that is until Voldemort decided to absorb all of my magic through my scar and turn me into a Squib."

"He can really do that?" Ron asked, his eyes wide.

"I think it was a one-time thing. He used the blood wards and my scar against me, but it didn't go as planned, so I doubt he'd try it again even if he could."

"His plan backfired, eh?" Fred asked, now smiling.

"Yeah," Harry replied, his grin matching Fred's. "After he finished draining me, something inside me snapped and I started sucking all of my power back from him, again through the scar. Thing is, that isn't all I got. I absorbed the power from the wards, and some power from him as well. Dumbledore said he was pretty weak when it was all over. Said he and his Death Eaters apparated out of there as soon as they realized that I'd absorbed the wards. After Voldemort left, my random growth spurt kicked in. According to Dumbledore, I grew around six inches in five minutes, and now I don't even need my glasses anymore."

"So You-Know-Who tries to steal your magic, but you wind up stealing his instead?" Ron asked.

"I didn't get all that much," Harry admitted. "It's enough to weaken him for a while, though. Dumbledore reckons he won't attack until he recovers, which could take months."

"Wicked!" the twins said together.

"Remind me to never try to steal your magic," George said seriously.

Harry laughed, and the tension that had accompanied the story was gone.

"That was brilliant and all, but why are you here?" Ron asked. Fred got up and slapped the back of his head.

"Just how thick are you, Ron? Harry absorbed the protections at his old place, so there's no reason for him to stay there anymore. Looks like he's with us for the duration!"

"You didn't have to hit me!" Ron said furiously.

"Be glad he didn't hex you," George said seriously. "We're allowed to do that now, you know."

"'Course I know," Ron said with a derisive snort. "All you do is apparate around the house. It's bloody annoying." Just then, a familiar voice called them from the hallway.

"Ron, Ginny, Fred, George? Where are you? Molly's going to be worried if you don't go over there soon."

"Sirius!" Harry called.


	2. I Have to WHAT?

**Stolen Magic**

A/N: First off, I'd like to thank you guys for the overwhelmingly positive responses. It's always nice to have readers, especially ones that actually like what I'm writing . On that note, I'm going to shamelessly plug a fic that I recently started reading on ficwad, one that hasn't been read by nearly enough people. I love ficwad, don't get me wrong, but a lot of readers there pretty much go for NC-17 only. I can't blame you, but I'd really like to recommend this story anyway. It's called Blind Faith, and it's by xyvortex. Search it on ficwad, please. It's a superb story and deserves about a thousand more reviews than it gets. It's complete, but he's also got seven chapters of a sequel up. Hell, it might be more by now…I'm too lazy to check. For those of you that are curious, it's AU in which Harry was blinded at the age of four. Features Dead!Vernon (hooray!) and Nice!PetuniaAndDudley (surprisingly believable). In case you didn't get the point, I really like this fic.

Enough shameless plugs. Once again, if you're reading off of fanfiction(dot)net or any other anti-lemon site that I might post this on at a later date, I'd recommend switching over to ficwad for this story. The formatting is slightly worse, but the quality isn't really affected. As soon as I figure out how to keep the proper dimensions in HTML format, I'll switch to that for ficwad, meaning all formatting differences will hopefully be resolved. Don't get your hopes up, though, I'm about as technologically savvy as a mountain goat, plus I'm on a Mac.

This chapter, as you may notice, is considerably shorter than the last one. The fact of the matter is, I'm not too happy with it at this point. It's more of a transition chapter than anything else. Just give me time…I promise some serious smut is coming soon!

One last thing: Anonymous reviews. At the recommendation of a reviewer, I enabled that function on fanfiction(dot)net. I'm not exactly sure what it entails, but I know that I don't really like it. I've received a few anonymous reviews on ficwad (one was accidental, though), and I'm frustrated that I can't reply to a couple of them. If you're going to flame me, feel free to go anonymous, because I won't dignify flames with a response anyway. If you're going to give a short review that you don't expect a response to, again, feel free to go anonymous if that's what you want. For all of you in-depth reviewers out there, PLEASE don't review anonymously. I really like to be able to reply to good reviews. If I have to, I guess I'll respond to those excellent anonymous reviewers in my future author's notes. However, anonymous reviews that request spoilers MUST LEAVE CONTACT INFORMATION! I'm not, for example, going to put which girls I plan on including in the harem in this author's note. Without further adieu, I present you with…the next chapter!

Thanks to Patrick, my beta for this chapter.

**Chapter 2: I Have to WHAT?**

"_Sirius!" Harry called._

"Harry?" came the predictable response from the hallway. A moment later the door was flung open. Sirius swiftly walked in and pulled Harry into a tight embrace.

"Good to see you too, Sirius," Harry wheezed.

"Sorry," Sirius said as the Weasleys burst into laughter at Harry's tone. "Guess I don't know my own strength."

"Or maybe Harry's just fragile today," Ron offered, still chuckling.

"Ouch, I really am sorry now," Sirius said, his tone suddenly somber. "You can't have fully recovered from that growth spurt already." He looked Harry over as if sizing him up. "And what a growth spurt it was!"

"That's what Madam Pomfrey said," Harry replied, blushing slightly. He suddenly grinned. "I felt great until you bloody mauled me."

"Speaking of mauling," George began.

"We should be getting back to the Burrow," Fred continued, somehow knowing just what his brother was going to say.

"Or Mum'll have our skins!" George finished.

"Right, you lot go ahead," Sirius said, waving them away, "I want to catch Harry up on our current living quarters." Ginny was out the door before he had finished speaking, and the others followed suit, though Ron waited in the doorway until Sirius gave him a "hurry up" gesture.

"Can't I go with them?" Harry asked after Ron had finally gone, his smile fading slightly.

Sirius studiously avoided looking at Harry while searching for a response. "Sorry, Harry. Dumbledore called a meeting as soon as you were safely at Hogwarts and gave us new orders concerning you."

"Orders where I'm tra—wait a minute." Harry's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by 'new', were there old orders?"

"Dumbledore had an Order member watching you at Privet Drive every day."

"What? Why?"

"I would assume to protect you from what happened," Sirius said, a smile threatening to emerge.

"I figured that, I meant why not tell me? It would've been nice to have some decent company for a change."

Sirius sighed and sat down on a bed, opposite Harry. "Dumbledore thought it was possible that Voldemort was having you watched. He assumed that if whatever Death Eater he was using to tail you saw you with a wizard, he'd probably get cockier. He might think he knew all of the defenses around you, which would give him reason to attack you, which we didn't want. If he had no idea what Dumbledore was guarding you with, on the other hand, he'd be more cautious."

"Well that worked out well," Harry said sarcastically.

"I'm not too happy with Dumbledore's decision-making myself," Sirius admitted.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"I'm in the same situation as you, except I'm not allowed, under any circumstances, to leave this house."

"I'm guessing you don't like it here," Harry said.

"My _family_ lived here," Sirius spat. "If you knew them, you'd understand. They were all the worst kind of purebloods. Like that Malfoy kid you told me about last year. His mother, Narcissa, is actually my cousin."

"You're kidding!" Harry exclaimed.

"Nope," Sirius replied. "C'mon, there's a family tapestry in the next room over. I'll show you just how horrible the Black family really is."

Harry followed Sirius as he walked into the next room, immediately making his way to the far wall, which held a massive black tapestry that went all the way from the floor to the ceiling. It was in pristine condition, obviously due to magic, and stood out in sharp contrast to the rest of the dusty room. As he moved closer, Harry noticed the thin gold lines on the tapestry tying various names together.

"You're not on here," Harry said a minute later, having thoroughly searched the bottom levels of the tapestry for his godfather's name.

"Yeah, _Mum_ removed me," Sirius said, pointing out a round burn mark and sneering at the mere mention of his mother. Harry noticed that there were a couple other similar marks nearby.

"Who else —"

"That one that's a row up from me, that one on the left, that's Uncle Alphard. He left me a decent bit of gold when he died, that's probably why she took him off."

"Why do they hate you so much?" Harry asked.

"I'll put it this way, my brother, Regulus, was a Death Eater, and my parents were quite proud of him."

"Your brother was a Death Eater?"

"Yeah, but he wasn't a very good one," Sirius said with a snort. "Got in too deep and tried to back out. Voldemort didn't like that too much, needless to say, and that's why he's dead."

"Voldemort killed him?"

Sirius snorted again. "I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort himself. Probably some low-level Death Eater got the orders."

"Right…" Harry muttered, looking back at the tapestry. "So who's that one next to Narcissa Malfoy?"

"The other black sheep of the family, so to speak," Sirius said, smirking. "My dear cousin Andromeda married a Muggle-born by the name of Ted Tonks, while her sisters both wed lovely Death Eater poufs."

"Tonks…the girl in the Order, is that Andromeda's daughter?" Harry asked.

"Yep, her spot, as you can tell from the burn mark, is below Andromeda's. So, have you seen enough of my family to understand just how evil we all are?" Sirius kept his tone light, but Harry could practically smell the worry coming off of the man. _'He's afraid I won't accept him because of his stupid family,'_ Harry realized.

"Don't go calling yourself evil, Sirius. Sure, you might have almost gotten Snape killed, but you should remember that I'm one of the people who only regrets that you didn't succeed."

Sirius grinned broadly at that and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Glad you and I agree on that. I think that's enough _really_ depressing stuff for one day. Now we can move on to the vaguely depressing subject matter I know you've been just dying to get to."

Harry rolled his eyes. "All right, let's start with the easy stuff. What's Voldemort been up to?"

"Technically," Sirius began, raising a finger, "I'm not supposed to tell you any of this, but bugger that! Just keep it to yourself." Harry nodded his acquiescence. "From what we've been able to find out, recruiting. He's only got a small percentage of the followers that he had last time, and he wants to fix that. Next question."

"That can't be all he's after," Harry pressed.

"Well, followers and you," Sirius amended.

"All I ask is for a little recognition," Harry said, sweeping his hand to his forehead in a dramatic gesture. "I won't even bother asking what the Order's doing about it," he said in a more serious tone. "Basically, I just want to know what's in store for me this summer. I'm going to be here with you, I know, but what are we going to do?"

"Molly's been using her kids to help her in the war against this house."

Harry frowned. "What war?"

"She's trying to clean the place up, make it habitable, but it's fighting tooth and nail to stay utterly disgusting," Sirius said.

"All right," Harry said, now grinning mischievously, "so what are we up against?"

Sirius straightened in a laughable attempt at military discipline. "Our main problem is my mother."

"Your _mother_ lives here? From the way you spoke about her, I assumed she was dead. Wouldn't she kick all of us out, or at least betray us to Voldemort?"

"Don't worry, she _is_ dead. It's her portrait that's the problem. It's behind those disgusting curtains, I'm sure you've seen them." Harry nodded. "Well, whenever we make too much noise, the curtains fly open and she starts screaming her head off. I'm pretty sure the portrait is equipped with a weak Sonorus Charm, among other things."

"She's just in a painting? Can't you…I dunno, take her down? Set her on fire?"

"She's got a Permanent Sticking Charm in place. Besides, she's only part of the problem."

"What else is there?"

"Kreacher."

"Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not. Kreacher is a house-elf, the most despicable, evil, loathsome house-elf in existence."

"Let me guess, he belongs to the family?"

"As if it wasn't obvious from my description. He's difficult to describe, you'll just have to see for yourself when he finally pops in to say hello."

"Sirius, can't we just have the Hogwarts house-elves come here and fix the place up? No offence to Mrs. Weasley, but I don't think she can pull it off, even if we all pitch in."

Sirius shrugged and looked away. "It's Dumbledore's decision, like everything else seems to be. I'll owl him about it first thing tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Harry said bracingly, trying to keep Sirius in a good mood. "You might want to request the help of a specific elf. He goes by the name of Dobby, and he's completely mental."

"Kreacher's mental," Sirius said. "This Dobby of yours can't be nearly as bad."

"Oh, he's not," Harry said quickly. "He's the good kind of mental. You'll like him a lot. He used to work for the Malfoys before I tricked Lucius into freeing him. Dobby threw him down a staircase when he realized it and tried to throttle me."

"Why haven't I heard this story?" Sirius demanded, laughing.

"I suppose it's because no one's told it to you," Harry said cheekily.

Sirius sighed in exasperation. "Walked right into that one, I guess. I can tell you're feeling better when you're so bloody obnoxious, but just to make _me_ feel better why don't you take a bit of a nap before anything else."

"Yeah, all right," Harry said, "but can I have something to eat first?"

Scene Break

Harry was awakened several hours later by Mrs. Weasley, who informed him that dinner was ready. As she led him downstairs, she commented on how thin he looked, proving that she really would say that to him no matter what, as he now looked like the epitome of health. Still, he just smiled and told her that she'd have plenty of time to fatten him up because he'd never have to go back to Privet Drive again.

"That's absolutely wonderful, dear," she exclaimed. "I never quite approved of…" she trailed off, unwilling to speak her mind on the subject of the Dursleys out of proper etiquette. Harry didn't realize that she had begun addressing him again until she was already mid-sentence. "…matter any longer, I suppose. You'll enjoy meeting a few of the Order members, although certain people…" once again, she trailed off. This time, Harry found himself a bit curious about who in the Order had managed to get on her bad side.

When they arrived in the kitchen downstairs, Harry saw that everyone was already seated. Ginny saw him before anyone else, and Harry was pleased to see that she didn't blush when their eyes met, but she did look down almost immediately. A moment later, every other face in the room was on his.

"Er, hello," Harry said, meeting Fleur's eyes and managing a smile.

She played the part of an old friend perfectly, squealing his name before rising and kissing him on each cheek, then crushing him in a hug. Harry inwardly sighed in relief when he didn't blush, not even at the catcalls that came from Sirius and the twins. He had to fight back a groan when he saw how jealous Ron looked. Fleur's hand dipped lower to squeeze his bum just before she pulled back, her smile widening.

"It's great to see you, Fleur," Harry said with very real enthusiasm. "So you joined the Order, then?"

She winked at him before replying in the affirmative, and then sitting back down. Professor Lupin, who now insisted on being called Remus, stood up and shook Harry's hand next, followed by the man Dumbledore had identified as Kingsley Shacklebolt. Harry was then introduced to several others, including Emmeline Vance, an elegant witch who seemed to be unable to take her eyes off of Remus for more than a few seconds at a time. Harry noticed the werewolf studiously avoiding chancing even a peek in her direction.

Harry sat down between Ginny and Fred, across from Fleur. The Weasley family was well represented, with only Bill, Charlie and Percy being absent. Harry was about to ask about Percy, but decided that he wasn't really interested in the answer. He contented himself by piling food onto his plate and fighting back the urge to blush when he felt Fleur's foot brush against his leg under the table.

The meal passed remarkably quickly. Harry spent most of the time speculating with Fred and George about Gryffindor's chances at the Quidditch Cup in the next year, with Sirius and Kingsley joining in for part of it. Fleur even inserted a comment of her own, assuring the others that she didn't see how any other team could beat them with Harry as Seeker. This comment caused Fred, George, and Sirius to snicker. Harry was just happy that Ron was too busy eating his third helping to hear her.

After the conversation had shifted, Harry grinned at Fleur before rising out of his seat and picking up his plate. "I think I'm going to go unpack," he said as he left his dishes on the counter. Walking out, he didn't notice Sirius and Remus exchange knowing looks.

Once at the top of the stairs, Harry leaned against the wall and looked expectantly at the kitchen door. Sure enough, Fleur emerged less than a minute later. She caught his eye and beamed, making Harry wonder if her veela powers really were all gone.

When she was close enough to whisper, she addressed him. "Are you ready for your first lesson, 'Arry?"

"Let's go," Harry whispered back, offering his arm, which she took. "Let's not let things get too out of hand, though."

"Why not?" Fleur asked, looking a little hurt.

"I…er…I've never done…well, _anything_ with a girl before you. Can we just take it a little slower?"

"But what about what you said earlier?" Fleur asked. "You remember, ze part about assuming we would be 'aving sex anyway."

"Well, I dunno how to describe it," Harry said slowly. "It was like my instincts were telling me to shag you right there in the hospital wing, and when I didn't, it seemed like it was only a temporary concession, as if to say, 'Well, you'll have to shag her sooner or later.' I'm not going to take it back, because I meant it, but I don't think I'm ready quite yet."

"Very well," Fleur said, pouting. "It matters not, for today we will be focusing on ze theory behind our magic. _Your_ magic, I suppose," she amended, looking up at Harry adoringly.

With a smile, Harry guided Fleur into his room. She sat on his bed while he knelt down and opened his trunk. "Mind if I unpack while we talk?" he asked, turning his head over his shoulder to look at her.

"It is all right with me," Fleur replied. "Just be careful not to miss anything."

"Don't worry," Harry said, turning back to his trunk, "I'll pay attention."

"Very well, zen," Fleur said, lying back on his bed and looking at the ceiling. Harry noticed that her tone had changed slightly to become more clinical, more like the tone one would expect from a teacher. "As long as zere 'ave been wizards, zere 'ave been veela. No one knows ze true origins of ze first veela, but zat 'as not stopped many arrogant wizards from pretending to. Veela cannot use magic ze way wizards can. Zeir true forms are avian, but most prefer to remain in zeir 'uman form for as much time as possible. Zey generally keep to zemselves, preferring the company of uzzer veela to zat of wizards and Muggles."

Harry turned around for a moment. "If most prefer to stay around other veela, then how do they reproduce? The only veela I've ever seen are female…"

"By uzzer veela, I meant both female veela and males 'oo carry veela blood," Fleur said quickly. "I must explain. Zere are wizards, always wizards 'oo are strikingly 'andsome, 'oo 'ave veela blood in zem. Zey are considered male veela, and are immune to veela powers. Zey must be at least 'alf veela for zis to apply, and a veela can instantly tell when a man 'as ze required blood."

"So is that what I have?" Harry asked.

"No, zere are a small number of wizards without veela blood in zem, or with less zan half, 'oo are resistant as well. You fall under zat category. Do you understand enough about zose zat are sometimes called male veela?"

"Yes. I understand well enough to know that it doesn't apply to me," Harry said. "What about female veela? You're a quarter-veela, right? So the blood must work differently for females."

"Very good!" Fleur exclaimed, sitting up and smiling at him, though she lay back down once she saw that he wasn't facing her. "It is slightly different for females. Like ze males, 'alfblooded females possess ze exact same powers as a pure veela. 'Owever, a quarterblood such as myself 'as both veela attraction and ze abilities of a witch. I was incapable of transforming into an avian form, so I expect zat you will find it impossible as well."

"Good," Harry said, tossing a pair of Dudley's old jeans onto a growing pile of clothes that would never fit him. "I'd really rather not have to turn into a giant flame-wielding bird every time Snape speaks."

"I can see why you would not want zat," Fleur said, her lips twitching. "What I 'ave just told you is what all veela tell wizards 'oo are curious about us. While all of it is true, it is not the _'ole_ truth. Few understand ze true nature of ze veela attraction, but you must learn as much as you can; it will 'elp you control it.

"We will begin with ze range of zose affected by your abilities, starting with ze female 'alf of ze population."

"Wait a minute, it affects _males_?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yes, but not in ze same way," Fleur replied impatiently. "I will get to zat, please allow me to explain females first."

"Er, sorry, go ahead," Harry said, abashed.

"It is all right," she said sagely, "you 'ave done nothing wrong. Females fall under several general categories if taken from a male's perspective. First, ze older generation, meaning zose zat you would never become attracted to simply because zey are so much older zan you. Because you are not attracted to zem, zey are immune to your abilities. A good example of zis group is Madam Pomfrey, I believe."

"Yeah, she wasn't affected at all," Harry agreed.

"Ze next group is blood relatives. Not zat you are likely to ever see any again, but zey will be completely unaffected as well." Harry snorted. Fleur continued as though she hadn't heard him. "With girls closer to your own age, if you view zem as sisters, or as uzzer family members, zen zey will not be affected as much as some uzzers. They will, however, feel some pull. If zey already were attracted to you, zey are still only hit with a reduced level of attraction, but it _will_ add to ze attraction zat zey naturally felt for you."

"So for someone like Ginny, she's had a crush on me in the past, so my powers will amplify those feelings slightly if they're still around, but no more than that because I think of her like a sister?" Harry asked

"Precisely," Fleur confirmed. "I believe zat your uzzer friend, 'Ermione, falls under zis category as well. I believe zat she thinks of you as a sibling as well, so her attraction will be no stronger zan a schoolgirl crush."

"And I bet it'll grow weaker with time. She'll probably learn to fight it pretty quickly," Harry mused.

"Yes, if nothing 'appens between ze two of you, she will eventually become as immune as a biological sister would be."

"Can that happen with every girl that's affected?" Harry asked.

Fleur shook her head. "No. Zat can only happen with ze girls least affected. It may weaken for ze uzzers, but it will never truly disappear. Zat reminds me, I 'ad moved on to ze girls zat _are_ affected, but I forgot one group zat is immune. If a girl is truly in love with anuzzer, zen you will 'ave no affect on zem."

"That's _something_, at least," Harry grumbled. "I'd really rather not have every lovesick guy in Hogwarts after my blood."

"You most likely will anyway," Fleur said calmly. "It only doesn't work if ze _girl_ is in love."

"Oh," Harry said with as much intelligence as he could muster.

"Indeed," Fleur said primly from the bed. The slightly spoiled girl he had taken her for during the previous year wasn't a _complete_ facade, it seemed. "Uzzer girls, ze ones your age 'oo you 'ave no real feelings towards, will feel it, but you will not feel anything different about zem."

"Why would I?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"I am getting zere," Fleur said, sitting up once again to look him in the eye. _'She may be a bit haughty, but it's comforting to know that she can do something besides fawn over me when it's just the two of us,'_ Harry thought to himself.

"Now, zere is only one uzzer group. Zey get a slightly different version of ze attraction. In addition to ze normal effects, zeir in'ibitions are lowered and zeir courage is bolstered, making zem more likely to seek contact with you."

"So they're more likely to do what you did in the hospital wing?" Harry asked, grinning cheekily.

Fleur flushed, but grinned back. "Indeed," she repeated, imitating Harry's joking tone. "Simply put, ze girls zat you desire are far more likely to desire you as well."

"Fleur, you're acting as if we aren't going to be getting involved," Harry said, his tone betraying his worry.

"Oh, believe me, we will be _very_ involved," she promised, meeting his eyes. "'Owever, once you get to 'Ogwarts, you will 'ave to seek new companionship."

"Why!" Harry asked incredulously.

Fleur put her head in her hands, her magnificent hair hanging inches above the floor. "I 'ave neglected to mention a couple of things," she began, looking up at him. "Veela are different in many ways from 'umans, and one is in terms of ze sex drive. Veela 'ave to 'ave sex often to maintain zeir mental stability. By ze time you are at 'Ogwarts, I will be a full member of ze Order, and unable to see you often enough to fulfill your needs. Actually, I doubt zat I am able to completely satiate you now."

Harry was a bit dazed, but ploughed on with the discussion. "Temporarily ignoring the fact that you just told me to shag other girls, why can't you, er, 'completely satiate' me?" He feigned disgust at the thought of multiple lovers, but the idea had a definite appeal to him. With a guilty conscience, Harry looked back up at Fleur and awaited her answer.

"You 'ave too much stamina. I would 'ave been able to keep up as a veela, but as a simple witch…" Just when Harry thought she was going to let the implications speak for themselves, she burst out with something even more unexpected. "Tonks will 'ave to 'elp!"

"Tonks?" Harry said weakly. "Your friend from the Order, Tonks?"

"Yes, she will be most eager to 'elp. It is a pity she is on assignment for ze next week," Fleur said, shaking her head in evident frustration.

"Wait a minute, let's backtrack here," Harry said, patting the air in front of him with both hands. "Surely you don't _want_ me to sleep with other women!"

Fleur sighed again. "'Arry, you are so naïve. It would be endearing were it not so frustrating. Veela always take multiple lovers. Typically, one female veela 'as up to eight different lovers."

"And the male veela are all ok with sharing?" Harry asked in a slightly less hysterical tone.

"I must clarify," Fleur said, shaking her head again. "Zere are far more female veela zan zere are males. Every female takes multiple lovers including one male and a multitude of females. Each male 'as multiple female lovers, zough he is incapable of fully satisfying even one female in a day. Ze females help each uzzer out, it is 'ow I was raised."

"So you've done all of this too?" Harry asked.

"No, I 'ave taken several different lovers, most male, but some female. Tonks is ze latest of zese lovers. 'Er abilities give 'er enhanced stamina. She came closer zan anyone else 'as, but was still unable to keep up in ze end," Fleur said sadly. "Luckily, she will 'ave no trouble keeping up with me now!"

"Ok, so let's say for a minute that, hypothetically speaking, I join you and Tonks. Why couldn't I just take up massive amounts of, er, pleasing myself at Hogwarts while you're not around?"

"Zat only makes ze desire stronger," Fleur warned. "A veela should never masturbate; it will cause pain and increase ze urges."

"Then what?" Harry asked. "I'm supposed to shag every girl I see?"

"I 'ope you will be more selective zan zat," Fleur said with a wink. "You do not need to pretend with me, I know zat ze idea appeals to you."

"How did you know?" Harry asked. He saw it in her eyes, there was no use in pretending.

"Because veela are sexual creatures. We desire a great deal of it with a variety of partners. Your veela nature is fighting your sense of propriety. It will win eventually, so you may as well give in now. If you do not, zen I will not tell you about ze final way zat your powers will affect your everyday life."

Harry glared at her, but her only response was a smile. "Fleur, you can't just expect me to accept this in one sitting. Yeah, the idea had appeal, but I still don't like it."

"You will," Fleur promised. "If you are unwilling to accept it, to even give it a trial run, zen we will never speak again about zis subject, and you will never fully understand why you act ze way you do now."

Harry glared at her, eliciting the same response as before. Right when he was about to give in, an idea occurred. "Fine, then I guess we won't be shagging after all."

Fleur grinned triumphantly. "You already said zat we would not 'ave sex tonight!"

"I meant ever."

The smile slid off her face with alarming speed. It was replaced with a dejected look. "Very well," she said, looking at the floor. Harry felt the urge to give in, but reminded himself that she had blackmailed him first. He compromised by walking over to the bed and sitting next to her, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close.

"I'm sorry, Fleur, but I need to know," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her temple.

"It is all right," Fleur replied quietly, putting her arms around his waist and resting her head against his shoulder. "I should not 'ave threatened you. Now zat I think of it, zere are two things we must address. I 'ad completely forgotten about ze first, which involves 'ow your powers will affect men."

"I completely forgot about that as well," Harry said, shocked that he could forget something so important.

"Men will be intimidated by you. If you are feeling extremely emotional, zen your aura of intimidation will increase. It is 'igher for zose zat you do not like, and almost nonexistent for zose zat you truly care for. For zem, it will be more of a feeling of respect for you, while your enemies may find zemselves fearing you."

"I just hope all that 'respect' doesn't scare any of my friends off," Harry said. No one he'd seen that day had acted any different so far, so he wasn't particularly worried.

"If it does, zen zey were probably not your friends anyway. Zat is something you probably could 'ave figured out on your own. Ze uzzer thing you should know is a bit more subtle."

"Gonna tell me?" Harry playfully asked, giving her a soft squeeze.

"It is fairly simple," Fleur said, now smiling slightly. "Your emotions are no longer ze same. You are more likely to experience one particular emotion more zan any uzzer. All veela are inclined towards a specific feeling. It is completely random, so zere is no telling what it will be. Mine was annoyance. You may 'ave noticed me complaining quite a lot during ze Tournament."

"Maybe a little," Harry admitted, eliciting a knowing smile from the beautiful blonde. "How d'you know I haven't just absorbed the your dominant feeling like I absorbed your powers?"

"Because you 'ave not yet become annoyed, to my knowledge. 'Ave you behaved in an unusual manner at all since waking up zis morning?"

"Aside from my time with you in the hospital wing?"

"Yes, aside from zat," Fleur said. "Due to ze sexual nature of a veela, lust is automatically a dominant feeling, but zere should be one uzzer."

"Well, I s'pose I was a bit…carefree while I was talking to Sirius," Harry said slowly. "You think my dominant feeling could be my sense of humor?"

"Zat is likely," Fleur said. "Since we 'ave met, I suppose we 'ave joked around more zan I would 'ave expected. You were certainly much more serious zan anyone else your age during ze year."

"Well, given what happened…" Harry let the statement hang, but he was smiling.

"I believe zat our lesson for today is over," Fleur said after a minute's silence. "I know zat you do not wish to do anything zat you would regret. You are not ready, and if I am to respect zat, zen I do not think it would be wise for me to stay here anymore tonight. You are very difficult to resist."

"I'm not the only one," Harry replied, standing up and offering her his hand.

"Merci," she said, allowing him to pull her to her feet She gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. "Tomorrow evening after dinner I will teach you to control your powers, zough I think zat you may be a natural. In ze meantime, try to stay calm." With one last kiss, she left the room, leaving the door open behind her.

'_Bugger,'_ was Harry's initial thought after she had left. With Fleur gone, he was finally able to think about what she had told him without the constant barrage of still more information. He now literally _had_ to do what many men wanted to be able do more than anything: take multiple lovers. He'd be lying if he said that the idea disgusted him.

'_It's all different now,'_ he thought. _'There's no going back, so I might as well stop whining about it. As long as I'm honest, the thing I'm most worried about is how Ron and the other guys will react to me having more than one girl. I can't just go after every good-looking girl at Hogwarts, not if I want to survive the year. If everything Fleur said is true, then it's going to be her, Tonks and me for the summer. I'll have to see how the next couple of months go before deciding anything about Hogwarts. Good thing I'll be in such good humor…'_

"So." Harry spun around to see Ron leaning against the doorframe. _'Speak of the devil.'_

"How was the Burrow?" Harry asked, not quite sure what to expect after the redhead's less than friendly greeting.

"Fine," Ron said, his eyes boring into Harry's.

Harry stared back for a moment before responding, hoping that Ron wasn't letting his jealousy rule him again. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Not really," Ron spat, his tone suggesting the opposite.

"So you've just come to leer at me, then?" Harry asked innocently.

Ron turned red and seemed unable to reply.

"What's the deal between you and Fleur?" he finally asked. "You weren't that close the last time you saw her."

"Don't tell me you're jealous again!" Harry exclaimed in mock-surprise.

"I'm not—Just answer the bloody question!" Ron shouted, oblivious to the open door.

"Well," Harry said icily, "I'd say it's none of your business. Maybe if you weren't so busy wishing your parents had died so you could get a fucking scar on your head, you would me more focused on Hermione, who you actually have feelings for, rather than on Fleur, who you only want because you think I've got her."

Ron did a remarkable imitation of a fish out of water for a while, unable to find an adequate response to Harry's words.

"Just get out," Harry said impatiently. "If you can get over your jealousy, I might not tell Hermione about this. You've got two weeks until she gets here. I'd recommend using them to do some serious thinking. Oh, and in case you wondered, you won't be using my Firebolt for a while, so I'd like it back."

"It's in my room," Ron said quietly, obviously ashamed of himself.

"Give it to me tomorrow, then," Harry said.

"Right…I'll just…" he trailed off and left the room. Harry smirked when Sirius and Remus entered as soon as he'd gone.

"How much did you hear?" he asked.

"All of it," Remus replied.

"So when did Ron become such a git?" Sirius asked.

"Since dinner, apparently," Harry said, shrugging.

"Ah, and speaking of dinner, that was quite a show you and Fleur put on," Remus said with a wink. "Misguided though he may be, Ron had a point. Anything we should know about you and her?"

"Tell you what, I'll tell you about her if you tell me about Emmeline Vance," Harry suggested, a devilish grin on his face.

"Not you too!" Remus exclaimed, sitting down on the bed.

"Ha!" Sirius crowed. "I told you she had a thing for you, Moony!"

"I'm well aware of her feelings," Remus muttered. "I just don't think someone with my condition—"

"Oh shut up!" Sirius interrupted. "It's already been proven that you can't pass on your affliction to any children you may have, and Emmeline's a big girl. She's nearly as old as we are, and is mature enough to make her own decisions."

"When did this suddenly become about me?" Remus asked. "Let's go back to pestering Harry about Fleur!"

'_Damn,'_ Harry thought as both men turned to him, identical evil grins on their faces. He got up and shut the door. "Er, have you two ever heard of Legilimency?"

"Yes," Remus said simply. "Why do you ask?"

"How are you at resisting it?"

"Occlumency?" Sirius asked.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Occlumency, it's the polar opposite of Legilimency," Remus explained. "Where Legilimency attacks, Occlumency defends."

"Whatever it's called," Harry said impatiently. "Are you any good at it?"

"It's the only good thing that came out of my time in Azkaban. You learn to keep your thoughts to yourself pretty quick in there," Sirius said, shuddering in response to the unwelcome memories.

"It's one of the few positive side effects of being a werewolf," Remus added when Harry turned to him. "Most people know not to even try to enter a werewolf's mind. I've been told it's…unpleasant."

"Good," Harry said. "I'm about to tell you what really happened to me when Voldemort tried to steal my magic. This conversation never leaves this room, though, got it? Not even Dumbledore can know, at least not yet."

Remus and Sirius looked at each other before nodding in agreement.

Once again, Harry summarized the events that led to his gaining veela powers, but he included everything since, even Fleur's explanation. When he was finished, both Marauders were dumbfounded.

"So you get to shag multiple girls?" Sirius asked.

"More like _have_ to," Harry said, allowing himself a smirk.

"Lucky sod," Sirius said, smiling and clapping Harry on the shoulder. "You'd better have enough fun for the both of us with this!"

"Not exactly the best example for Harry to follow," Remus said, but his smile made it difficult to take him seriously.

"Actually, he is," Harry insisted. "I really do have to do this, and Sirius is helping me look at it from a positive perspective. Plus, he's being a bigger man than Ron, who was horribly jealous when he thought I had _one_ girl. He'll be a complete nightmare if he ever finds out the whole truth."

"We'll just have to keep him from finding out, then," Remus said.

"Agreed!" Sirius said enthusiastically. "So when do you learn to control your powers?"

"Fleur suggested tomorrow after dinner," Harry replied. "It might not work out, though, something could always get in the way. We'll find a different time if that happens."

"More like some_one_ could get in the way," Sirius corrected.

"Thinking of Ron?" Harry asked.

"Actually, I was thinking that Ginny might try to have her wicked way with you," Sirius said.

"Weren't you listening, Padfoot?" Remus asked.

"Apparently not well enough, what did I miss?"

"Harry thinks of her as a sister, meaning her attraction will be minimal. Besides, didn't you say she has a boyfriend?" Remus inquired, turning to Harry.

"That's what she said to Ron," Harry replied. "Merlin, I hope she gets better. I don't want to deal with him getting angry over her blushing whenever I'm around."

"Any idea who the guy is?" Sirius asked.

"Nah, but I think it's better if I don't know," Harry said.

"Why's that?"

"Because if I knew I'd have to tell Ron," Harry explained. "And he'd send the poor kid a Howler, which is downright tame compared to what'd happen at Hogwarts."

"Ron's that overprotective?" Remus asked skeptically.

"Yeah, he seems to have inherited it from his mum," Harry said. "One of the reasons I'm glad Ginny's not my type. He's being an arse now, imagine how bad it'd be if it was his sister who was groping me in front of everyone."

All three shuddered at the mere thought of Ron's volatile reaction.


	3. The Practical Lesson

**Stolen Magic**

A/N: Been a while, has it? What can I say? College is chaos, and rearranging my schedule for second semester wound up hurting my free time more than it helped. But enough about that, it's summer now, my time of writing.

This is it, the chapter you've all been waiting for. The smut has arrived! Those of you on fanfiction(dot)net would do well to transition on over to ficwad, especially since this chapter is short even with the lemon. Another benefit of ficwad is the fact that I posted a oneshot there since my last update...and it has a lemon of its own as well! Details are in my profile here if you aren't sure it's for you.

Speaking of other stories, some of you may have noticed that the prologue of my latest piece, The Blackest Potter, is up both here and at ficwad.

I wanted to get this chapter to you guys as quickly as possible, given how long you've already been waiting, so it's beta-free this time.

**Chapter 3: The Practical Lesson**

Harry woke up early the next morning and found that his clothes from the previous day had been washed and left out for him. A note was attached to the stack telling him that Mrs. Weasley and Hestia Jones, who he had met the previous day, would be taking him to buy new clothes after breakfast. It mentioned Muggle clothing specifically, which Harry assumed was the reason Hestia was accompanying them. Grinning slightly, he left the room and headed downstairs.

Only Remus and Mrs. Weasley were in the kitchen when he entered, the former sipping a cup of tea while the latter was piling food onto a plate at a truly alarming speed.

"Morning, Harry," Remus said without looking up.

"Yes, good morning, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling. "Here's your breakfast. Hestia is already waiting for us in the Leaky Cauldron. She said the Muggle shops won't open for another hour, so we'll be going to Madam Malkin's first."

"Sounds good," Harry said, dropping into his chair. "D'you mind if we go to Flourish and Blotts as well? I was hoping to pick up a few Defense books."

Mrs. Weasley's smile faded slightly and she seemed to lose herself in thought for a moment. "Y-yes, of course. I suppose you should learn what you can," she finally said, her eyes watering slightly.

"It's a good idea, Harry," Remus agreed. "Sirius and I can help you go through them, if you want."

"Sounds great! Speaking of Padfoot, is he still asleep?" Harry asked. Remus nodded in mid-sip. "Do me a favor when he wakes up and remind him to ask Dumbledore about house-elves."

"Will do," Remus said. "Any special reason?"

"I know one that might be able to help us clean this place up," Harry said, giving Mrs. Weasley a small nod and a smile. Her somewhat unhappy expression immediately cleared.

"That sounds lovely. I certainly could use some help around here."

Harry only grinned in response, his mouth bulging with toast. He got up to clear his almost empty plate.

"Weren't the kids helping out with the cleanup?" Remus inquired.

"They have been," Mrs. Weasley began, "but Ron and Ginny aren't allowed to do magic yet, and the twins seem to make more of a mess with it than anything else. Sirius has been helping as well, but Kreacher keeps trying to get in the way, and he's the only one who can order that..._thing_ around."

Harry raised an eyebrow at Remus, who shrugged.

"Well I can promise you'll like the one I've got in mind loads better than Kreacher," Harry said.

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips, as if prolonged discussion of the loathsome elf was physically unpleasant to her, but was smiling as cheerfully as ever a moment later after checking her watch. "Ready to go, dear?"

"Yeah, let's," Harry said before turning to Remus. "I'll see you later?"

"Unless Dumbledore's got a job for me," Remus said, waving him off.

"Right," Harry said with a nod before following Mrs. Weasley out of the room and towards the Floo. "Are we going to Gringotts first?"

"No need, dear," she said airily. "I went out last night after you'd gone to bed and picked up plenty. Hestia told me how many pounds to get as well, and the goblins took care of the exchange, though I think they may have been a bit stingy with the rates." Mrs. Weasley looked pensive for a second at that, but shook herself free of her thoughts a moment later when she tossed a pinch of Floo powder into the fire that had sprung up the moment they entered the room. "You go first, Harry."

One horrific tumble through the Floo network later, Harry was walking into Madam Malkin's with Hestia Jones and Mrs. Weasley protectively flanking him. He hadn't gotten a chance to get to know Hestia the night before and found himself quite taken aback by the witch. Were it not for her black hair and slightly slimmer build, he'd mistake her for his other minder in a second. He didn't think he was quite prepared for the level of mollycoddling that now seemed inevitable.

Harry hadn't yet been recognized, though he suspected it was only because no one had come close enough to see his scar. There were few shoppers in Diagon Alley so early in the morning, and none even close to his own age. He was grateful for that, mainly because he wasn't ready for any female attention that didn't come from Fleur just yet. As he walked into their first stop, he wondered if he'd ever _really_ be ready.

"Hello dears," greeted Madam Malkin, eliciting scowls from both women flanking Harry. '_Guess they have a monopoly on that word,_' he thought to himself, unable to fully suppress a smile.

It was Hestia that recovered first. "Our young friend here has had a sudden growth spurt and seems to be suddenly lacking in robes. We'll take a few sets of black robes for Hogwarts while we're here, but perhaps a couple in a few different colors for everyday use as well. Anything I'm leaving out, Molly?"

"No, you've thought of everything," she said absently, seeming entranced by a set of aquamarine robes on the other side of the shop.

Madam Malkin followed her gaze easily and waved a salesgirl forward. "Gloria, why don't you show our customers that set of robes over there...no, just to the right...yes, that's them. I'll get our young friend's measurements, meanwhile." She waved her wand absently at a measuring tape that lay tangled up on the floor, causing it to shoot into the air and begin wrapping itself around Harry, who tried not to jump away from the overfriendly device.

Harry and his entourage left half an hour later with one bag, though it contained three more that Mrs. Weasley had cast a Shrinking Charm on.

"Harry, you really didn't have to buy us those robes," Hestia commented for the fifth time as they entered Flourish and Blotts. He had insisted on buying them both a new set of robes as a thank you for taking him shopping.

"For the last time, I was happy to," Harry said exasperatedly. "And if you don't stop with that, I'll buy you loads more from the Muggle shop." Without waiting for a response, he made his way to the counter, not noticing the smiles his threat of more generosity had elicited.

The wizard at the counter was a tall, unsmiling fellow who wordlessly pointed Harry to the back of the store when he asked for books on combat and defense. He quickly began sorting through the available tomes, finding a great deal right away. To be on the safe side, he grabbed a couple basic spellbooks (_Curses and Counter-Curses_, which he remembered seeing during his first trip to Diagon Alley with Hagrid, _Jinxes for the Jinxed_ and _Self-Defensive Spellwork) _before moving on to the more advanced books. _The Dark Arts Outsmarted _was his next pick, and several others with similar titles followed it. On a whim, he also grabbed _Dueling for Sneaks_. The cover depicted one man repeatedly hexing another from behind. As Harry watched, the hexed man turned around and punched his attacker square on the nose, starting a fistfight. Another impulse buy came when he spotted Hermione's Arithmancy textbook on the way back to the counter. '_If Hermione was as right about that as she was about bloody Divination, I just might have to ask McGonagall if I can take the O.W.L. for it at the end of the year,_' he thought to himself as he picked it up.

Harry paid over twenty Galleons for his books, which surprised Mrs. Weasley even though their previous stop had cost nearly twice as much.

"All those books, Harry?" she asked as they walked. "Don't you think you're going a bit overboard?"

"Just trying to be safe," Harry replied. "Given the scrapes I keep getting myself into, I think I should try to at least be ready for the next one."

"You make it sound as if it's inevitable," Hestia observed.

"Ask anyone who's known me for more than a year," Harry said. "Except for Snape, don't even mention my name around him."

"Yes, I've noticed that every time your name pops up in a meeting he can't resist inserting at least one snide remark about you," Hestia said.

"I'm starting to think he really doesn't like me," Harry said with a theatrical sigh.

Scene Break

After returning from the Muggle clothing shop, Harry used the remaining time before lunch to begin looking through his new books and found those he looked at to be far more interesting than his other spellbooks. He hadn't yet looked at the Arithmancy text, but resolved to tackle at least the first chapter that afternoon.

When he finally came down to lunch, Harry was so deep in thought about the various hexes he wanted to try out on Malfoy upon returning to Hogwarts that he barely heard Sirius tell him that he had sent the request to Dumbledore.

"…think he'll reply sometime tonight, hopefully with Fawkes. Harry? Are you even listening?"

"I drift in and out," Harry said honestly, not really wanting to rid his mind of the image of Malfoy attempting to brew a potion with his eyes transposed onto the palms of his hands. A slap to the back of his head from Sirius shattered that particular daydream. "Guess I'm in now," Harry said, glaring at Sirius and rubbing his head.

"Good," he replied, not troubling to hide his smile. "I wonder where your thoughts have been today…" Remus hastily choked back a laugh at that remark.

"I wasn't thinking about Fleur, if that's what you're insinuating," Harry said smugly. "I've been looking up hexes, and I was thinking of the potential results of a really odd one."

"Ah, say no more," Sirius said, getting a faraway look in his eyes. "Just imagine Snape's cloak trying to strangle him…"

"Is that really the best you can come up with?" Harry asked incredulously. "All that time in Azkaban has taken away any and all creativity that you once had. _Allegedly_ had, I should say."

"Oh, and you can do better?" Sirius asked.

"Here we go," Remus muttered.

"Off the top of my head, and just using Snape's cloak?" Harry asked. "Sure. Hex it so that it attempts to strangle the _other_ professors when they get close enough, or add a small whip or two to each corner of it that are charmed to swing up and hit him in the eye every time he tries to sweep it behind him. Really, Sirius, it isn't all that difficult."

"I'll admit the whip idea has merit, but I'd personally rather see the cloak strangling _him_ than anyone else," Sirius said after a moment's thought.

"As amusing as that would be," Remus interjected, "don't you think seeing Minerva's potentially violent response to being assaulted by it would be a bit better?"

"You might be right," Sirius admitted grudgingly.

"Don't worry, Sirius," Harry said, giving his godfather a friendly pat on the back, "I'm sure Fred and George can help you regain your lost talents."

"Actually," Sirius began smugly, "they've come to _me_ for business advice for their shop."

"_Business_ advice," Harry echoed. "Do I really need to elaborate?"

"Ruddy kid thinks of everything," Sirius grumbled.

"Too right I do," Harry said. "You two all finished?"

"Just a second," Sirius said as Remus rose and picked up his empty plate. "I'll make a second sandwich to bring upstairs."

"No you won't!" Harry exclaimed in mock seriousness, thinking of what Hermione's reaction would be in his place. "I'm not about to let you go through my brand new books with a sandwich in hand!"

"I'll wash my hands before touching them," Sirius replied, unfazed. "Books are more Moony's cup of tea, anyway."

"I'd take offense at that if it wasn't true," Remus said with a slight grin. "Let's go ahead and start without him. He'll join us when he's ready."

Harry nodded his agreement and the pair made their way upstairs.

"This is quite a bit of reading," Remus said, eyeing the pile appreciatively when they'd entered Harry's room. "Are you sure you can manage all of it this summer?"

"Of course not! That's why you're here," Harry said. "I want to learn as much as I can, but I'd like for us to go about prioritizing it. And by us, I mean you and Sirius. The only book I've committed to reading cover-to-cover is _Dueling for Sneaks_, and even with that one I'll skip bits that focus on taking advantage of situations in regulation duels. I won't be in any of those."

Harry had expected Remus to complain, what he hadn't expected was an eager smile to appear on the former-Marauder's face. "I guess I'll get right to work, then. You go ahead and start on that one, I'll sort through the rest."

"Actually, I'll be starting on this right now," Harry said, pulling out the Arithmancy textbook.

"Harry, that won't help you much in terms of defense," Remus warned.

"I figured I'd give it a try. Besides, if I'm ever sick to death of learning curses without actually being able to practice them, I'll have a nice change of pace right here."

Remus looked like he wanted to say more, but wisely decided to open up a book and start flipping through it instead, muttering to himself as he read.

What followed was the most mind-numbingly dull hour of Harry's life. He forced himself through the entire introduction of the book, but still didn't even know what Arithmancy _was_. Sirius had come in at that point and began laughing uncontrollably at Harry's choice of reading material. He wasn't able to help Remus until several minutes had passed. Meanwhile, Harry started the first chapter, but wound up flipping through to later ones to see if they were more interesting. He eventually came to the conclusion that there was no mention of any form of spell in the entire book, so he gave it up as a bad job.

Scene Break

Sometime during the afternoon, Ron turned up and left Harry's Firebolt outside of the door. Harry only found it out there when he went down to dinner with Sirius and Remus. Both men expected to finish sorting through the new books within the next couple of days, but Harry wasn't worried. _Dueling for Sneaks_ had piqued his interest from the start, so it wasn't entirely unexpected that he was already six chapters in. The only mention of formal dueling was a brief, scathing disclaimer at the very beginning. It warned Harry that if he expected to find the secrets of winning legitimate duels by means of less-than-honest strategies through reading it, he was not only an idiot, but an idiot that should never, under any circumstances, procreate.

Dinner was a slightly smaller affair that night, with only Emmeline Vance and Mad-Eye Moody joining them and the Weasleys. Fleur sat next to Harry, but had to be on her best behavior, as Moody's magical eye seemed to be staring at him throughout the meal. It was really quite disconcerting.

Ron, for his part, didn't even seem to notice Fleur and Harry sitting together. He was on Moody's other side, as far away from the pair as possible, and appeared completely focused on his own thoughts. He didn't even take his usual extra helpings, curbing himself after a restrained three.

Ginny, who sat on Harry's other side, seemed to be regaining her confidence around him. The pair had a fairly animated conversation that ranged across several topics with only a few blushes on Ginny's part. Harry was slightly tempted to ask whom she was with just to get a rise out of her brothers, but managed to refrain from doing so.

"Potter!" Moody barked from across the table, completely interrupting Harry's current conversation with Fleur, Ginny and Sirius, and making everyone seated jump at the sudden noise.

"Er, yes?" Harry asked, once he'd recovered.

"Come with me after dinner, there's something Dumbledore asked me to show you." Harry's eyes darted around at that, but the slight surprise showing on everyone else's faces told him that no one else knew what Moody was talking about.

"What does he want me to see?"

"It's a surprise," Moody growled.

"Of course it is," Harry muttered darkly, nodding at Moody before turning back to Sirius. His plate was almost empty, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to see whatever it was that the grizzled ex-Auror was assigned to show him. The fact that Dumbledore had suggested it gave the idea, whatever it was, some credibility, but Harry often had bad luck with surprises, especially surprises involving Alastor Moody...or anyone impersonating him. He and Fleur also had prior arrangements, but one shared look with her told him she had already accepted the necessary delay. So, he continued to slide his last bite of roast beef back and forth on his plate over the next few minutes, half-heartedly listening to the conversation around him.

"Let's go, Potter," Moody said, shaking Harry free from his thoughts.

Harry said nothing, but briefly squeezed Fleur's shoulder on his way out.

Moody led him to the rear of the house, where a staircase led down to a basement he hadn't known existed. The first thing he noticed was that it was completely empty except for four fairly small stones and one human-shaped one, a small stone in each corner with the large one in the middle of the room. Harry couldn't find a light source, but the basement seemed well lit.

"I take it you're wondering what we're doing down here," Moody said, his wooden leg making a dull clunk with every step. He didn't wait for an answer. "This is the surprise. I've been working on it for four days, and it's finally complete. In this room, you can practice magic without the Ministry being able to detect it."

"Really?" Harry asked, his excitement every bit as strong as his apprehension had been moments before. "That's brilliant!"

"Thought you might like it," Moody replied.

"So Ron, Ginny and I can practice spells here?"

"Sorry Potter, this is a deal that's just for you," Moody said, not sounding remotely unhappy about it. "Dumbledore's orders, and all. After a certain point, you have to leave your friends behind if they can't keep up. Besides, the warding on those stones is keyed to you and you alone. I'd have to put in at least another week for the Weasleys, and I've got better things to do."

"Fair enough," Harry said, surprising himself with his quick acceptance. Then again, he had no real desire to spend an extended period of time with either Ron or Ginny given the way things currently stood between them, not to mention Mrs. Weasley's likely reaction at the mere thought of her children having to defend themselves against Death Eaters. "But wait, Dumbledore said something about physical training, which would include them."

Moody shrugged. "No one has to spend an extra week doing busywork so they can physically train all of you. He probably did it so you could spend some time with them. Dumbledore's always been a strange bloke. Any more questions, or can I continue?"

"Sorry," Harry said quickly.

"S'alright. The stone in the middle is a piece of Dumbledore's handiwork, actually. It'll be your target, since these walls won't last forever against some of the spells you'll be practicing, and speaking of that..." Moody paused long enough to pull a small, tattered brown leather book out of his pocket and hold it out. Harry took it, opening it to a random page.

"A spellbook?" Harry asked.

"Not just any spellbook," Moody growled. "My old Auror spellbook. Includes most of the spells we used, and some of the ones we weren't allowed to until things got bad. Learn it all, and only use the illegal ones against Death Eaters. It's all marked. Mine's got a special bonus feature that not too many others put in. I put some of the relevant information on a few of my favorite Death Eaters. The spells they usually use, their personalities. Even threw in a picture or two when I could find them."

"This..." Harry began, completely gobsmacked.

"Don't mention it," Moody said gruffly. "Feel free to write notes of your own in it if you like, I've got the ruddy thing memorized, and I never was too sentimental."

"I'll put it to good use," Harry promised.

"That's all I needed to hear," Moody replied. "Go on and pocket it, you'll have plenty of time to look at it after."

"After what?" Harry asked as he complied.

Moody's only answer was a powerful looking stunner that Harry felt pass through his hair as he ducked under it. He dove to the side and pulled his own wand out as another stunner passed through where he had been a moment before and splashed harmlessly against the ground.

Harry let loose with an Expelliarmus, dodging two more shots. It seemed that Moody was limiting himself, since Harry had only seen the one spell so far.

The older man batted Harry's attack aside with practiced ease and kept his spells coming at a breakneck pace. Harry found himself rolling and dodging all around the room before an idea came to him.

"_Accio_!" he shouted, pointing his wand at Moody's leg. It should have come out from under the ex-Auror, causing him to lose his balance. It should not have stayed exactly where it was, completely unaffected by his spell. The last thing Harry saw was Moody's wicked grin before a flash of red light covered his field of vision, darkness at its heels.

Moody waved his wand over Harry's prone form, bringing him back to consciousness.

"Looks like you need a lot of work, Potter," Moody said. "My leg and eye are as impossible to summon as the real thing, so you might want to try a different strategy next time."

"Next time?" Harry asked, rising.

"Someone has to keep track of your progress," Moody said. "We'll try again in two weeks or so. Next time I won't just use stunners, either."

"Right, I'll be looking forward to it," Harry muttered sarcastically as Moody went upstairs. He was about to follow the ex-Auror when he heard someone else making their way down to see him.

"Professor McGonagall?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Don't sound so shocked, Potter," the woman in question replied. "Surely you at least suspected that I was a member of the Order."

"Er, to be honest, Professor, you and rule breaking generally don't come to mind in the same sentence," Harry said, smiling in spite of himself.

"I assure you, Potter, that I follow every single law that is worth following," Professor McGonagall said smartly. "But that isn't why I'm here. I have merely come to give you this, a book to help keep you occupied. Professor Dumbledore informed me of your summer studies, and I believe this will help you greatly." She handed him a surprisingly thin leather-bound book.

Harry looked down at the cover and blanched at the title, _Transfiguration in Combat_. Transfiguration wasn't his best subject, and it was only the knowledge that Remus and Sirius would go through it for him and mark the important parts that kept him from asking about the gift's importance. "Thank you, Professor."

"You're welcome, Potter. Enjoy your studies," Professor McGonagall said, either not noticing or ignoring his skepticism.

As he followed her upstairs, Harry wondered just how useful transfiguration could possibly be in a duel.

Scene Break

"Now remember, 'Arry, concentrate. You must _want_ to be overlooked. You must _want_ to be invisible," Fleur said in an unbearably sultry tone.

In all fairness, it wasn't really Harry's fault that he couldn't concentrate. Fleur had taken advantage of the extra time between dinner and the lesson to change into the most provocative clothes Harry could imagine her wearing. Her white top was skintight and very small, and the evidence that she wasn't wearing a bra underneath it had been pointing at him since the lesson began. She wore a skirt that covered up slightly more than half of her thigh when she was standing, but much less when she sat down. On the bed. Less than a foot away from Harry. She had removed her socks and shoes shortly after his arrival, citing the high temperature as her reason, though she was snuggled up into his side a moment later complaining about the cold. If Harry wasn't already being driven half mad by lust, he might have teased her for it.

Despite his lack of concentration, Harry was still doing fairly well. He had spent his whole childhood wanting to be invisible, so it came to him easily. Fleur had commended his immediate progress after he successfully turned his attraction down as low as possible, but now he found himself unable to duplicate the feat. He was starting to suspect that the clever girl at his side had planned it all out, allowing him to learn the basics before taking the reins for herself through subtle seduction. Her voice had been changing throughout the lesson, going from fairly clinical to little more than a poorly disguised moan.

"Fleur?"

"Yes, 'Arry?" She licked her lips, making Harry pause momentarily before continuing.

"I don't think we're going to get any farther in tonight's lesson."

"No?"

"No."

They stared at each other for nearly a full minute, neither willing to take the initiative. It would have been impossible for an observer to tell who moved first, but they were kissing an instant later, tongues darting back and forth, teasing and taunting each other. Harry lost all capacity for thought as he let his instincts take over.

**Lemon Removed**

An hour later, the couple was wrapped around each other and fast asleep. The sweat on their nude forms had mostly dried, but the smiles on their faces would remain until morning at the very least.

A/N: Seriously, go to ficwad if you haven't already. The ending just isn't the same without the lemon.


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